


Not Two People, Not One Person

by GayChaton



Series: A Mindscape Experience [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Gem Fusion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, The Mindscape, Violence, fusion fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayChaton/pseuds/GayChaton
Summary: Thomas really should've seen this coming.Really. If he can feel a fusion of emotions, why wouldn't his sides be able to literally fuse? The only question now is how to convince the sides to let him meet each fusion.He doesn't realize that there's fusions best left undisturbed until they're already coming after him.





	1. Thomas

 Thomas is sitting on the couch utterly failing at paying attention to anything.

He had pulled up _Little Shop of Horrors_ on his TV to watch, but now he’s doing that super unproductive thing where he distracts himself from a distraction by scrolling Tumblr on his phone. It was one of those days where he truly did want to do something, but no matter how many things he looked at, his attention for it would die out in less than fifteen minutes. Three scripts, two TV shows, and one previous movie hadn’t done anything for him, and neither is this musical.

Thomas scrolls away, liking the occasional post and reblogging a few with the proper tags. There are a few wordy ones he scrolls right past; while he did have a few tags set aside for politics, he tries to use them as infrequently as he could. Then, something reblogged by a positivity blog finally catches his eye. Maybe it's the formatting or even the font that makes it appealing enough to read through.

 

 

 

 

> _**~Breathe~** _
> 
> _**okay.** _
> 
> _**No feeling is forever. You know that.** _
> 
> _**No time spent happy is time wasted.** _
> 
> _**No thought is unworthy of attention.** _
> 
> _**No bad day can negate how far you’ve come.** _
> 
> _**You know this.** _
> 
> _**Set aside time -even a five minutes, even one minute, whatever you can- to think about you.** _
> 
> _**Self discovery is never a waste of time, and self reflection is never a useless thought.** _

 

Thomas reads over the post a few times and double-taps it to save it to his likes. (He’ll probably forget to look for it again later, but at least it’ll be somewhere he can dig for it.)

“Logan?”

Rising up from the floor on the right side of his coffee table comes Logan, glancing around, a bit confused. “Thomas,” he greets. “I’m a smidgen bewildered. There seems to be no emotional crisis or distress for me to address, and since you’ve given up on working for the day, I fail to see why you’ve summoned me.”

“Hey to you too,” Thomas frowns.

Logan sighs sharply, but pushes his glasses up and straightens his spine. “Hello, Thomas. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to know if we could, I dunno, self-reflect? I can’t pay attention to anything at the moment, so maybe we could spend time doing that.”

“Unless you would like an analysis on our behaviors, I figure you’re referring to a soulful search,” Logan comments, furrowing his brows. “In which case, shall I summon Patton or Roman for you?”

“Well, I was kinda thinking everyone should be here,” Thomas giggles before his smile turns into a grin. “Get input from each side of the argument?”

“Woah! Did someone order a _side_ of dad jokes?” Patton exclaims. Thomas hadn’t even noticed the emotional side rising up on the left side of the coffee table until he was there, cracking jokes like always.

“Nobody ordered anything,” Logan says. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Hey kiddo,” Patton says to Thomas. “I don’t think Logan’s on my **_side_**.”

Thomas chuckles at the joke, but Logan rolls his eyes. “Patton, we were going to have a full conversation, not a side discussion.”

But Patton gasps, covering his mouth with his hands.

“… What?” Logan asks, confused.

“Did you just make a side pun?”

“Not intentionally,” Logan growls defensively.

“Guys, focus,” Thomas says quietly.

“Oh, right!” Patton exclaims. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“We were just gathering the others to begin a discussion,” Logan says. “Speaking of, Roman!”

Roman is pulled up quickly, still riffing his way through a vocal warm up before he realizes he’s not alone anymore. “Oh! Thomas, good to see you. How may I be of service?”

“We’re just talking,” Thomas smiles to put the fanciful side at ease.

“Will Finding Emo-- I mean, Virgil. will Virgil be joining us?” Roman asks.

“Nice,” Logan deadpans.

“Hush,” Roman shoots back.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Thomas shrugs. “Virge has said he appreciates it when he tries. And yes, Roman, we were just bringing everyone up to speed.”

Logan shakes his head and cups a hand around his mouth. “Virgil!”

Virgil snaps into existence across the room. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“Nothing of note, we just needed everyone here to self reflect,” Logan says, seemingly satisfied now that the complete set was present.

Virgil, however, is far from relaxed at the news. The anxious side shoots a glare at the ceiling and then to Thomas. “Do we really have to do this? Kinda lame to go all soul searching.”

“Reflection is no lame duck,” Patton exclaims. “It’s a great habit.”

“I agree with Padre over here,” Roman nods. “After all, how would I realize how wonderful being me is if I didn’t take the time to consider everything? And before you say it, it’s not about conceit either. Sure, I have great hair and princely charm and wonderful ideas that help Thomas’s life have meaning, but more importantly, I am -generally speaking- kind, generous, and cheerful. You don’t have to be an egomaniac to be happy being yourself. It’s about self care and Treat Yo-self Days and glitter bath bombs!”

Logan raises a hand slightly. “While the last two are debatable, individuals who regularly exercise self care are statistically shown to be healthier and more productive and are even more likely to score steadily higher on happiness tests.”

“And that’s all great. Really, I do appreciate self care and personal reflection,” Thomas assures carefully before perking up. “But I did mean it kinda more literally.”

“I’m not sure how you can mean that literally aside from that we are personality reflections,” Logan mutters.

Thomas continues, “Roman! Virgil once said that anything I want to know about myself, you guys can tell me. I just have to be open to listening to it.”

“…Yes?” Roman nods, a little nervous.

“Teach me something cool about you guys! Like, maybe someone’s room I haven’t seen before? Or tell me how you guys met? Or do you have any other superpowers besides shape-shifting and teleportation? Or—“

“That last one seems most plausible,” Logan interrupts.

“I agree,” Roman agrees. The nervous tension is still on his face as he smiles at Thomas and opens his arms. “How about we go to the Mindscape and I’ll create some theater sets and monsters to fight?”

“I already know you guys can create things from scratch,” Thomas whines. “Come on, it doesn’t have to be a dark secret that you all hide. Just something cool.”

“You sound just like Steven from season one,” Patton giggles before it cuts short. His joking demeanor has vanished, and now he just looks mildly guilty.

Thomas frowns. “Steven? Like Steven Universe? What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s more apt of a description than he realized,” Logan explains.

“Why?” Thomas asks. “You guys aren’t alien rocks or anything, are you?”

“Of course not, Thomas. Don’t be absurd. There’s simply a handful of abilities we share with them.”

“Oh,” Thomas says, deflating. “You mean how you can shape-shift and Roman can summon a sword. Things like that?”

“Well, that and…” Roman trails off and looks around at the sides. “Do we tell him?”

Suddenly, the attention is entirely off Thomas for the first time in the conversation. It’s like they’ve forgotten he’s still in the room, but surprisingly, it’s not unwelcome. Thomas watches with rapt attention for clues to a secret that they’re debating revealing. Hopefully he will know soon enough, but he can try to piece it together by hoe they talk about whatever-it-is.

“He’ll geek out and ask us all to do it,” Virgil mutters.

“But he’d be so _happy_ to find our we can!” Patton exclaims. He smiles, trying to win them over. “Why would it be such a bad thing?

Logan taps his cheek. “Perhaps it’s best we leave it where it lies until it is necessary. Delving into it’s relationship to the Dark Sides is by no means preferable, and we hardly ever mention it even among ourselves.”

“He’d make us do it during our talk and videos,” Virgil hisses.

Logan opens his mouth, but his eyes widen and he puts a finger to it instead. “… I’m just realizing that could be very helpful in coming up with a solution.”

“Hey, I thought you were on my side,” Virgil snaps.

“I’m on the side that makes sense.”

Virgil scowls.

“That’s a three-to-one majority I hear,” Princey chimes, grinning as he looks around.

“So much for listening to Anxiety,” Virgil says.

“Oh come on, now, kiddo,” Patton coaxes. “You know, you don’t get stage fright without a great performance!”

“I am the _embodiment_ of stage fright,” comes the response.

“Virgil,” Roman huffs. “Say perhaps we persuade Thomas to swear he will not make you perform the ability. Would you allow for us to disclose it with that in mind?”

The three sit waiting for Virgil’s response as he looks over his shoulder to consider it. “… I guess.”

Roman absolutely beams. “Fantastic! I will _not_ let you down. Now, Thomas!”

“Yes!” Thomas yells right back, excited from the long buildup.

“We do have a superpower you haven’t seen yet! However, Virgil seems to be on the fence about making it a common thing, so you wouldn’t mind promising him that he doesn’t have to participate, right?” Roman asks.

“Right,” Thomas says. He turns to the nervous side and forces himself to get serious for a second. No matter how excited he was to find out something cool, Virgil’s boundaries come first. “Virge, you never have to do anything you don’t want. I’d promise that any day. If I ever push you too far, feel free to remind me that I’m doing that so I can stop as fast as I can.”

“Thanks,” Virgil mutters.

“So! What’s the big reveal?” Thomas asks. “Is it—“

“Stop,” Logan interrupts. “We’re about to tell you. It doesn’t make sense to start listing off superpowers that might be more impressive than what we can do.”

“Right,” Thomas nods, steeling himself. “Roman, take it away.”

“We…”

Roman holds out the word and then holds his breath, looking around and pausing for tension buildup before he yells out—

“We can fuse!”


	2. Chapter 2

 “Whaaaaat!?” Thomas asks excitedly.

“I know!” Roman squeaks. “It’s so freakin' _awesome_! We _dance_ and _everything_ and we all have our own _styles_ and gosh, Thomas, the outfits that the fusions have? A- _mazing_.”

“Giant woman!” Thomas screams.

“Giant _man_ ,” Logan corrects with an even tone. “We’ve been over this, he/him pronouns all around, since your identity is firmly male. Occasionally, they/them as in plurality, or royal ‘we’, pronouns for a few fusions in particular. And hardly ‘giant’ either. Statistically, none of our fusions have ever had massive size to the excess that is portrayed in Steven Universe. In fact, one of the tallest recorded fusions has been Calm, who clocked in at twelve feet. That’s nothing in comparison to Alexandrite, another quadruple fusion that is estimated to be at least twenty-four feet tall, despite being comprised of four relatively small beings.”

“How much taller do you get usually?” Thomas asks in awe.

“Depends on which fusion,” Roman shrugs with a grin. “In fusions of two, about seven feet. In threes, ten feet, usually.”

“Some fusions are unnaturally large, even if they’re only comprised of two sides,” Logan says. “Others are barely an inch taller than normal, such as the fusion of Patton and I.”

“And it’s _really_ cool!”

“The leading theory is that if every single side fused, there would be a very large, but similar copy of you, Thomas,” Logan explains.

“This is so cool,” Thomas mutters. “It’s so rad that you can do that! But still, Virgil, it’s weird that you think I’d make you fuse with someone. You know how proud I was of Lapis choosing not to fuse with Jasper again.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. “Oh, nonono, I didn’t think you’d _force_ me to. No, it’s just that the peer pressure gets to me sometimes.”

“Are you like a Garnet situation?” Thomas asks. “Fusing only when you need to?”

“Kind of? Sometimes I fuse with Logan. And I like you, Patton, we’d be great in theory. You’re a cool guy. But we don’t mesh that great in practice.”

“What about Roman?”

Virgil shifts on his feet as he carefully chooses his next words. “We’re not… there yet. He’s kind of unstable.”

“I am not unstable,” Roman squeaks.

“Not _you_ ,” Virgil says, rolling his eyes. “King.”

“Oh,” Roman mutters shortly, apparently conceding the point. He bites his lip and hums. “Well, we’re working on it.”

Thomas quirked his eyebrows. “King?”

“A prince of light, like me, and a prince of dark, like him, are bound to be some kind of royalty,” Roman shrugs. In a second flat, he’s right back to prideful.

“King is like a monster dictator,” Virgil explains to Thomas. “He’s insanely powerful, and has dark magic all over the place.”

“Yes, the monster part is _Virgil_ , and the monarch part is me! The influences are pretty clear,” Roman nods.

Virgil glares at him. “Hey, you’re part of the monster too, or did you forget when _you_ gave us the claws?”

“I just did that because I knew you would like it,” Roman hisses.

“Woah there fellas, take it down a _botch_ ,” Patton interjects.

Logan frowned. “You do mean notch, right?”

Patton gasps. “Silly me! I must’ve ** _botched_** it!”

At the same moment Princey bursts out into laughter, Logan emits a groan expressive of pure exasperation. As dumb as the distraction was, Virgil and Roman only give each other one more tense stare before letting it go.

“So do I get to meet any of the fusions?” Thomas asks, grinning. “I realize some of your relationships are more unstable than others, but it would just be so _cool_ to see a real fusion!”

Logan straightens his spine and takes a breath. “Putting aside the fact that we aren’t actually real, and therefore can’t be a ‘real’ fusion, I believe a demonstration could be arranged.”

“Cool,” Thomas mumbled. “Who?”

“Maybe Camp Counselor? Or Narrator?” Roman wonders aloud.

“Doctor might be optional, though I’m still feeling some lingering resentment towards Patton for fooling me into setting up that pun,” Logan says. “Just a comment.”

“I’m good to fuse with anyone,” Patton chirps.

“Shall we, then? Logan, is that alright with you?” Roman asks, gesturing between himself and Patton.

“I don’t see why it wouldn't be,” Logan says, pushing his glasses up. “Please proceed.”

Thomas stands up and follows the others to the open space of his living room where he’d typically place the camera while doing a video. Virgil takes a place on the stairs, but Logan remains just in front of the coffee table next to Thomas as Roman and Patton take the center of the space.

“We need some music to go with this…” Roman mutters before he quickly summons a phone into his hand. “Unfortunately, our fusion music only plays when we fuse without thinking of it. The second it comes to mind that we should be dancing to music or something, we _have_ to pull it up manually. Magic is such a _drag_ sometimes.”

“Pick something happy! I can’t wait to get going!”

“Ooh! How about [Melody Meadow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHhXVjcggj4)? From that fake game soundtrack on tumblr?” Roman asks excitedly. “It has _your_ keys and _my_ beats and it picks up into a tune Counselor will be _so_ down with.”

“Sounds good,” Patton grins.

Roman pulls up the tune quickly and rushes the phone over to Logan, who nods and hovers his finger above the play button. Both Roman and Patton stretch for a few seconds before Roman gives a nod to Logan, whose finger lowers and lightly taps the phone’s screen.

Thomas watches excitedly as Roman taps one foot into the ground as Patton sways happily to the beat. The song is quiet, but cheerful. A keyboard outlines happy little phrases before it’s joined by a ukulele and tambourine, play together in time as little bubbles and notes chime in.

Patton’s dancing can best be described as embarrassing dad dance as he curls his hands into fists and shakes them in muted movements while shifting from side to side. It’s a little awkward, but there’s no shame on his face as he bites his lip in concentration while flapping his elbows like wings in the Chicken Dance. Still, he bounces with his knees and stays on beat, so it’s not awful to watch.

As soon as the ukulele kicks in, Roman raises his arms above him and raises onto the balls of his feet, twirling and landing in a bow with arms extended. He’s much more graceful in comparison, but to call his dancing ballet-like would be a stretch. Roman echoes the strong positions and a little of the grace, but he’s too grounded in his footing to fall into that category.

Faux ballet meets nerdy parent. _Huh._

Patton shimmies on beat towards Roman, who circles around him at the same time. Roman grins and takes Patton’s hand, spinning him around before pulling the fatherly side into an embrace and—

They’ve timed it on the beat perfectly, because just as the song shifts into a stronger, more fluid beat, their bodies turn to light for maybe two seconds before a seven-foot-tall side forms right in front of them. The new side is tall, but has Thomas’s face and physique just like any other side, with the exception of having an extra set of arms protruding from his lower back, just above the hips. He stands proud and grinning in a bandanna and blue shirt with pink words reading “Camp Lake-Side” and white capris. Over the shirt, he has what looks similar to a boy scout sash with an uncountable number of badges covering every inch of the fabric on the front and back.

“Well hello there,” the new side exclaims, waving to Thomas with all four arms.

Thomas’s mouth falls open.

“I don’t think we’ve met. [I’m Belief!](https://ibb.co/dbsyvz) Princey and Dad call me Camp Counselor because I’m just so darn good at planning fun events! A few times before when you’ve done vines with your neighbors, I’ve been the one that’s here to help you entertain the kids."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patton+Roman=Royality/Belief/Camp Counselor (singular he/him pronouns, uses I/me in self-reference)  
> Belief's Fusion Song: melody meadow-louie zong


	3. thatsthat24

 “Hi, I’m Thomas,” he says.

Belief chuckles. “I know! It is so good to meet you. “And hello Logan, hello Virgil. Good to see you two again.”

“Hello,” Logan says.

“Hey,” Virgil says dryly.

“So is Belief your name, or your aspect?” Thomas wonders aloud.

“Belief is the fusion of Creativity and Morality, so I guess the aspect! But _then_ , Camp Counselor is the fusion of a monarch figure and a fatherly figure. I guess we could mash up Patton and Roman took but our real names are so _similar_ it get’s messy. I call myself Belief most of the time, but if you want to get technical, the closest to a name I have is Royality.”

“Cool, cool,” Thomas grins.

“And what a _nifty_ outfit I have, huh?” Belief asks rhetorically. “Just the perfect blend of stylishly composed and _fun_ for the whole family!”

“What are all your badges for?” Thomas wonders aloud. He peers closer at the badges. They all kind of fall together like a pattern, but each one has a symbol or a word on it to denote some kind of meaning.

“A lot of them are for fun things like team work and cooperation. A few are for protecting and helping other sides, and even more are for successful plans! I get a new one for every summer we have,” Belief says, pointing to the outside edge, which sure enough has a vertically descending line of patches that say “‘92”, “‘93”, “‘94”, all the way down to the most recent years. “These ones are for each time I helped you learn how to cook a meal, these are for times I helped you make a production in film or theatre— ooh! These are for every time I helped you make the honor roll in school, and this set is for graduating.”

“When did you earn all of these? Have you fused a lot?”

“Well, of _course!_ Patton and Roman are just so gosh darn like-minded. Having fun and taking care of yourself is definitely the sort of thing they agree on, so I fused for every summer break you had in school, and every leisure vacation you take. Logan and I have had our differences in the past over how much fun is reasonable, but I’m a firm believer that every single second counts!”

“Wow,” Thomas mutters under his breath. He’d never considered how weird it might be to hear a fusion talking in third person about their components. The oddest thing is how an entirely new entity knows him, even if they’ve never met. It’s funky, but so, _so_ cool. Real, actual fusions.

He’s still trying to wrap his mind around it when he remembers a snippet he caught from a previous conversation.

“Logan, you said something about how the fusions might let us settle our conflicts?” 

Logan blinks, seemingly a bit confused at being the center of attention.

“Yes,” Logan says, rolling his shoulders. “I did mention that fusion might be an effective tactic in the resolution of our internal debates. We face a lot of problems where the solution in the end is compromise of two or more of our ideas. Theoretically, if we just fuse when we can’t see eye to eye, we’ll be forced to occupy the same mind and possibly change our perspectives so that we can see each other’s arguments clearly, thus ending our debates.”

“Isn’t it hard to fuse when fighting? Pearl and Amethyst couldn’t fuse until they found a common goal…” Thomas wonders.

“In a way, yes,” Logan concedes. “However, in Steven Universe terms, Lapis and Jasper fused under their shared distaste for their situation as well as their common goal of becoming a fusion to win a fight. Even though Lapis was planning on winning a fight with Jasper once they fused, they had enough in common to fuse in the first place.”

“You’re saying you fuse like Malachite fused?” Thomas asks, suddenly unsure about the concept.

Logan shrugs. “In a sense, yes. Obviously, we won’t be fusing with the intent of sabotaging each other. My point was that simply agreeing that fusion is the best course of action is enough to fuse in the first place. It’s a loose metaphor.”

“Oh,” Thomas says. He’s relieved that it wasn’t as drastic as he thought it was, but it still seems somewhat odd. “Do you fuse with Virgil just to fuse, or with something else in mind?”

“On the contrary,” Logan says, eyebrows raising. “Virgil is an interesting fusing partner, and the closest side to my intellectual equal. No offense to Roman or Patton, Belief.”

“None taken,” Belief shrugs with an unaffected tone.

“Often, the cause of our fusion is simply a need to balance perspective. Sometimes, a quiet coexistence is nice within a fusion. Virgil’s presence educates me with fragments of modern culture I am otherwise unable to piece together myself, and my presence can reason away some of his irrational anxieties,” Logan explains.

“Right,” Thomas nods. “That makes sense. What’s your fusion name?”

“Curiosity,” Logan answers.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Belief frowns.

“Good, we’re allergic to them,” Logan deadpans.

Belief gasps and snatches Roman’s phone from Logan’s loose grip. Thomas had honestly forgotten about it, but Belief walked off and sat on the couch. “I’m going to look up pictures of adorable cats and dogs and try to recover from your hurtful words.”

Logan shrugs.

Virgil makes his way down the stairs to join them. “Ever hear of morbid curiosity? That’s what I bring to the table with Scholar.”

“Scholar?” Thomas asks with a confused inflection. "Oh, Curiosity."

“He likes to do research on interesting topics, I like to binge read conspiracy theories and entire wikipedia pages. It’s one of our only very strong skillsets,” Virgil grumbles. “But it mostly distracts us when we should probably be working on upcoming deadlines.”

“Ah, yes,” Logan says. “The drawback of Scholar. Though we’re very good at completing things such as taxes and paperwork that you put off to the last minute, we have an unhealthy tendency of staying up and getting distracted.”

“Thomas does that anyway.”

“Unfortunately so.”

From across the room, Belief cleared his throat. The three others looked over to him as he sat up. “Well, unless Logan would like to come on over and form Optimism with me, I think I’m going to goof off until I unfuse at dinnertime.”

“You unfuse at dinnertime?” Thomas asks under his breath.

“Roman sucks at cooking, so Belief’s mediocre at cooking,” Virgil mutters lowly.

Logan shakes his head. “I’m inclined to decline, sadly. I have a book to catch up on, and the three of us together are not inclined to spend our time reading.”

“Sure,” Belief says. “See you around, Thomas.”

“Oh, bye!” Thomas shouts as the fusion sinks out through the couch. When he’s gone, Thomas turns to the other two. “So there’s no way I could persuade you two would fuse right now, huh?”

“I’m afraid not,” Logan says.

“Keep your promises, Thomas,” Virgil says.

“Ah well. See you guys later,” Thomas nods.

They both respond with short farewells before sinking down into the floor as well.

Thomas stands there for a moment, lost as to what to do next. Then, he makes his way upstairs and pulls out a notebook from his desk. It’s the same one he keeps his theories about TV shows and movie sequels in, but there’s a little tab near the back where he keeps a log of theories he’s had about his own sides.

The first few pages are notes on the four main sides. There’s a whole page of ideas for how to overcome and ignore Anxiety that he looks on with guilt now. Back then, he hadn’t recognized Virgil as anything more than a nuisance instead of a part of his identity that he couldn’t ignore. There’s pages of increasingly updated theories about names as each one fell into place in due time, and a whole page front and back of speculation about the Dark Sides like Deceit.

He starts a new page and marks up two columns. One that says “COMPONENTS”, and one that is spaced out into “NAME / ASPECT / NICKNAME”. In this chart he writes down what he knows.

 

> _Patton + Roman = Royality / Belief / Camp Counselor_
> 
> _Logan + Virgil += ? / Curiosity / Scholar_
> 
> _Roman + Virgil = ? / ? / King_
> 
> _Logan + Patton = ? / ? / Doctor?_
> 
> _Roman + ? = ? / ? / Narrator?_
> 
> _Logan + Patton + Roman = ? / Optimism? / ?_
> 
> _All Four = Calm(?) / Calm(?) / ?_

 

At the very least, he wasn’t bored anymore.


	4. Logic

 Logan puts broccoli in his mouth. He chews, swallows, and tries to make sense of the emotionally charged bickering taking place around him.

“I can’t believe you told him,” Virgil groans over the table.

“I only told him because it was a good idea,” says Roman, newly back from his adventures around the Mindscape as Belief. “If a person’s logic, heart, and soul believe something’s the right idea, it _has_ to be! Right?”

“Not if they’re not considering the _consequences_ ,” Virgil growls.

Patton raises his fork with his sausage skewered on it. “Now, son, it’s important to consider the best case as well as the **wurst** case!”

Virgil looks conflicted, but sighs. “Fine. Whats the best case then? What is so fantastic about Thomas knowing?”

“It’ll make him happy,” Patton says. “It’s another option for solving problems. We don’t have to worry about slipping up and telling him a secret. Aren’t those things you think are positive?”

“I guess…” Virgil mutters. He covers his mouth with his hand, which is tucked in his sleeve. “I just think he might expect us to be like the Crystal Gems, all saving the world and fighting evil and junk when in reality it’s just the Subconscious Imagination Frame and sometimes the others.“

“In a way, they _weren’t_ ,” Patton points out. “The gem monsters that the Crystal Gems fight aren’t evil, they’re just corrupted _gems._ ”

“We really do model our abilities after the media Thomas enjoys, though,” Roman shrugs. “Once we watched Steven Universe, we did fusion dances to make it easier and we came up with wonderful weaponry. Once we got into Harry Potter, we got common rooms for our hallways. Virgil, your whole style is obviously inspired by the punk scene Thomas enjoys. Who knows how many Disney movies it took to turn me from just an actor to a Prince?”

Logan clears his throat for the first time in the meal. “Imitation is a natural response to love of a work of art. I’m inclined to mention that I do have an issue I’d like to resolve with the assistance of at least one of you.”

“What’s wrong, Logan?” Patton asks sweetly.

“The fiction books of my library have had some escapees of the monstrous type. They were running rampant across my observatory the last time I checked. Perhaps, Roman, you could come to help me solve the infestation and run damage control.”

Roman’s face lights up instantly. “I’d be honored! Are you done eating, Logan?"

“Yes,” Logan nods, pushing his plate an inch forward before standing up.

“To the South Wing, then!”

The two sides left Virgil and Patton at their identical replica of the dining table at Thomas’s house and walked up the stairs to get to the Mind Palace part of the Mindscape. The stairs change from a traditional staircase to a spiral staircase halfway through, leading up right into the center of the Mind Palace which Roman had created for filming, but was hardly used due to its annoyingly terrible echo. Each of the walls has a wooden door painted a different color in the center, as Roman had insisted they all match stylistically in the same room. And so they head to the dark blue door on Logan’s wall, where he pulls the handle and they enter together.

“Your common room’s changed up a bit,” Roman mutters with a slightly impressed tone. “ _Very_ geometric.”

Logan’s room had indeed changed a bit since Princey had visited last, but it isn’t anything drastic. Instead of plain hardwood flooring, he’s added rectangular rugs in certain portions of the room. The black leather reading chairs and desks with filing cabinets are much the same, but the wall decorations have shifted from being covered with calendars and posters from past academic diplomas to the simple geometric decor in the fashion of modern minimalism.

“Looks neater, dare I say,” Roman says.

“Thank you,” Logan nods. He walks over to one of the desks and picks up a stack of books before tucking it under one arm. “I realized that the calendars and certificates were somewhat of a mess, so I’ve filed away all of the academics and sorted the calendars into planners instead.”

“Nice,” Roman says. He walks slowly across the room, still taking it in.

Logan walks past him and grabs the door, as he’s the only one who can easily open it. Past his common room is a hallway in the style of an office building; tile flooring, small windows into each room, and fluorescent lights overhead. He has a relatively short hallway in comparison to all the others. He’s never gone too far into Virgil’s room, for he knows the risk of corruption outweighs his curious nature. However, both Patton and Roman have long, long hallways with their shares of memories and rooms of their own invention. Logan’s hallway has only six rooms, even including his sleeping quarters at the end of the hall. He has a library, an observatory, a laboratory, his bedroom, an amphitheater, and a holo-deck. The last one is somewhat of a matter of secrecy for Logan, and is kept under lock and key, for all Roman and Patton had ever wanted was to play with holograms. Logan keeps it explicitly for easy visualization of his own planning.

“Logan, what creatures have escaped from your library?” Roman asks with a worried tone to his voice.

Logan looks at the hallway again and notices the long scratches and dented walls. “Nothing particularly wild yet, I suspect. I don’t tend to keep many horror books -Virgil tends to take those- but the children fantasy books we have from childhood still contain dragons and monsters. Even then, it hasn’t been more than a couple of hours, so I doubt any of them are at full strength yet.”

“Haven’t you been taking care of the books?” Roman asks. He moves to the side to peer through the window into the library. “Subconscious Imagination doesn’t burst through books unless the books go unmonitored.”

“Tending to fantasy books haven’t been on my top priorities, I admit,” Logan says.

“Then it _might_ be time to chain and lock the books,” Roman sighs. He looks saddened but rolls his shoulders. “It’s not like we reread many of them that often. There are always other ways to access fantasy.”

“I agree. I’ll get on that once we put them back.”

“Are those all the books they escaped from?” Roman asks, pointing to the pile of books that Logan has.

“I think so. It seems the monsters all originated from one bookshelf, and so I checked each of the books methodically and compiled a list of the ones whose pages showed evidence of escape. This is each one from that list.”

“I believe you. You’re _sure_ they didn’t get into the lab?”

“I put it on lock the second I sensed something leaving the library. The amphitheater, too, has an entrance that seems unopened. I didn’t consider the observatory in strict danger of damage, however, so I left it open.”

“Alright,” Roman acquiesces. “Do you have a plan, then?”

“Yes. We’ll go over the list of books that have missing monsters. By doing this, both of us will be able to identify which monsters need to go into which books. Then, we will each take half of the pile and enter the observatory. Next, we will methodically defeat each monster and recapture them into their proper book, and finally, you will assist me in manipulating the rooms of the observatory, hallway, and library to repair the physical damages. Are we agreed?”

“We most certainly are indeed!”

“Let’s get to work.”

Logan spends about half an hour laying out his plan to Roman, detailing which monsters are most dangerous and which are and aren’t at full power yet. They divide the books between them and form a general plan of attack. In the end, they’re as ready as they can be.

Logan has four books in his backpack, and one in his hand. Roman has four in his backpack, and a sword in his hands.

The books Logan holds are for the monsters he should be able to defeat alone; _How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Goosebumps: The Girl Who Cried Monster, Frankenstein, Oh the Thinks you can Think!_ , and _Where the Wild Things Are_.

Roman’s book collection holds the more difficult ones, which he’s more suited to battle. He has _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ for the escaped dementor, _The Goblet of Fire_ for the Nigerian Ridgeback, _Jabberwocky_ and _Other Nonsense: Collected Poems_ for the Jabberwock, and _The Hobbit_ because somehow Smaug got out.

Logan’s free hand hovers over the doorknob to the observatory. “Ready?”

“Onward,” Roman declares.


	5. Logan

 The door opens under Logan’s hand and the interior is a mess.

It’s night time, of course, but time of day isn’t often shown in the windows of the Mindscape. Most windows only let in a small amount of blank light through shutters to represent the time of day; only the conscious choice to view the weather outside will unfog the window. However, the observatory is a room dedicated explicitly to viewing the weather and the sky, so the large glass roof exposes the star-speckled, cloudy sky and moon.

The light, however, shines down on the tiered room, illuminating the shapes of dragons creepy humanoids and amalgam monsters across the room and hanging from the massive telescope in the center. Usually, the observatory is only a couple dozen meters across. Yet, with creatures of such a massive scale occupying it, the room has expanded into a massive arena to accommodate. Creatures which, upon the door opening, snap their attention to the source. A collective disturbed screech emits from a number of them as they notice the two sides at the doorway.

Roman charges forward with a battle cry, running directly at the Jabberwock. As planned, the most aggressive of the monsters chase after him. Logan glances over the room to evaluate, and finds the closest creature to be Frankenstein’s monster. He makes a dash for him and skids to a stop just in front of him.

“Sir, I know you escaped your world for you did not belong there, but you do not belong here. I promise, there will be a man who will know your story,” Logan says quickly.

He pulls the right book from his bag and opens it, pressing the pages to the monster’s chest. There’s a bit of resistance, but the pages glow and suck the monster back into the story. Logan quickly closes the book and sets it on the floor to be collected later.

He looks and finds the Grinch next, tearing pages from his astrological log and dropping them on the ground. Logan is suddenly furious, and a knife is summoned in his hand before he knows what he’s doing. His arm reels back and he sets the weapon flying without a single conscious thought. The next thing he knows, he’s watching the knife land in the Grinch’s shoulder, and he stumbles back.

For a second, Logan is stunned by his own actions, but he shakes his head and reminds himself that it’s a fictional character that cannot die in the Mindscape. It can only be defeated and returned to its own book.

So he dashes forward and presses _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_ to the Grinch’s face before he has another chance to falter.

Two down.

Logan spares a moment to look at Roman to check his progress. The Prince is a _little_ worse for wear, but he’s holding his own. The burn marks on his pants don’t seem to have done much damage, and there is no sign of the Jabbewock or the dementor. Now, he fights the two dragons at once while KW, the Wild Thing, tries to get past the dragons to join the fight.

Satisfied with Roman’s ability to look out for himself, Logan turns to the next creature. Two middle-aged adults stand looking at the large telescope in mild interest. Logan summons two knives and throws them with precision into the backs of both of them. The parents are monsters in human disguise, no matter _how_ convincing their appearance is. Logan makes his way to them and sucks them into the _Goosebumps_ book one by one.

“Logan!” Roman cries.

Logan whips his attention to the Prince. The Creative side looks significantly more wounded than he had only seconds ago. His arm is bleeding profusely, like he’s been bitten, and he holds onto his chest with one hand, leaving his sword weakly swinging in his other. He swings an arc at the Horntail, and then does it again. The Horntail’s throat lights with fire, preparing to shoot flames at the side.

Roman ducks the burst of fire and slides under Smaug’s belly to take cover. The Hungarian Horntail’s fire hits Smaug’s side, and for a minute, it angers him enough so that the dragons battle each other. “Throw me _Where the Wild Things Are_! I’m gonna get KW!”

“Very well!” Logan grabs one of the two remaining books from his bag and throws it like a Frisbee to Roman, who leaps forward to catch it.

Roman rolls forward and sets down his sword to properly hold the book. Logan watches anxiously as he checks the cover, seemingly unaware that KW is running towards him, mouth open. Logan is sure that Roman is perfectly capable of defeating a monster made of sand and stuffing, but he is also all too aware that KW has a _repeated habit_ of swallowing human boys whole.

“Behind you!” Logan shouts.

Roman’s head shoots up and he flips onto his back, holding the book in front of him. KW’s claws reach to shove the book down, and they grapple for a moment before the book does its job and begins sucking her in.

Logan breathes a sigh of relief.

“Finish the shadow creature,” Roman yells. “Then come help! I can’t hold my own much longer!”

Instead of commenting that it’s absurd that he already has, Logan pulls out his remaining book. It’s a Dr. Seuss one, and unlike every other monster, he knows almost nothing about the Jibboo. It’s only seen once on one page, and has no dialogue or description. He only waved to a boy on an abandoned street at night. That is the entire extent of Logan’s knowledge.

Logan approaches carefully, watching the Jibboo carefully. It’s just a shadow, standing silently. He pauses, trying to devise a plan to finish this as quickly as possible so that he can return and assist Roman. He definitely can’t throw something at it, for he can see through it, and if he threw a knife only for it to fly through its body, it might anger it into a fight Logan can’t win.

As he’s thinking, though, it raises an arm and waves.

Logan… raises an arm and waves back.

It puts a hand towards the top of its head.

Logan does likewise, resting his hand on his hair. Then, he gets an idea. Perhaps if the Jibboo is partial to copy cat games, he can initiate the action first. He opens the Dr. Seuss book and places his hand on one of the pages.

There’s a moment where nothing happens, and then it puts it’s hand on the other page and almost instantly it vanishes, sucked into the book with no resistance.

Logan drops the book and runs to Roman. He has to make his way down several small staircases to get down there.

Roman looks _terrible_. He can see as he runs towards the fight that one of the dragons must have attempted to eat him, because bleeding teeth marks arch their way in a curve across his chest. Roman is no longer holding his sword or his backpack. Both are discarded against the base of the telescope in the center of the room. Now, he is sprinting under each of the dragons, rolling out of the way just in time to escape powerful claws crushing him. It seems his current tactic is to hide long enough that the dragons will damage one another perpetually. Such a tactic won’t work; Roman has exhausted himself with physical fatigue and wounds. He can’t keep it up forever.

“Roman,” he calls out.

Roman’s head turns to him for half a second, but he turns away to avoid being slammed by a stray tail. “Kinda busy!”

“I have an idea!”

“I’m all ears, man!”

“Hold on—“ Logan cuts off as he reaches the dragons. Logan runs to Roman and grabs his good arm, pulling it over his own shoulder to drag him away. He lifts Roman as best he can and drags him away from the fight quickly.

“They’ll just chase us,” Roman warns seriously.

“Alter the room,” Logan says. “Raise the floor, make a box around us. Trap us inside.”

Roman’s face goes even paler. “Logan—“

“ _Now!_ ”

Roman lifts his shaky, bloody arm towards the ground and makes a fist before jerking it up. Instead of a box, the concrete floor raises up in curving arcs, trapping them in a roughly pod shaped cubby. There’s no light, but there’s no dragons either.

Logan sighs in relief and drops to the ground with Roman. They breathe heavily in the darkness for a few moments. They’re interrupted by a loud tremor of the walls around them, as if the dragons are clawing at their shelter. Which is probably exactly what’s happened, actually. Logan’s gazing up into the darkness when a soft yellow glow lights up their tiny cove. His gaze snaps to Roman, who’s creating floating, glowing plant buds from drops of blood in his palm.

“I learned that one from _Guardians of the Galaxy_ ,” Roman chuckles wetly. He coughs and blood comes out.

“Let’s do a quick once-over,” Logan says, looking over Roman. Profuse bleeding of the arm and chest. Definitely some broken ribs. Possibly punctured lungs. Scattered burn marks. Slow reaction time. Logan feels his face screwing up as he tallies the score.

“Gonna tell me it’s _not that bad?_ ” Roman asks. It’s not malicious, just tired. He pats Logan with his arm -which is still hung over Logan’s shoulder- and smiles shakily. “It’s _pretty_ bad, Lo. You have to sink out and get the others. I can’t sink out of any of your rooms without Thomas. Go get help, I’ll stay here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Logan mutters. He takes a long second to think of options, but comes up with only one. The dragons have stopped berating their hiding spot, but they’re still trapped. There’s only one possibility Logan can conclude will end with no severe damage to either of them. “By the time we get back, you may have taken considerably more damage. Not to mention the time it would take to break into this cove. No, there’s another way out.”

“Another—“ Roman cuts himself off and looks down at his bleeding wounds. “ _No_. You’d come out of it hurt.”

“And stabilize you,” Logan nods. “We need Perfectionism.”

“Don’t bring the Narrator into this,” Roman pleads.

“It’s the only way,” Logan says softly.

The air shifts in the small enclosed space. Suddenly, the air is charged in an emotional sense. Roman’s face tightens in pain and frustration. He probably doesn’t even realize, but his arm is pulling Logan into a tight side hug. Everything outside of their little room is inconsequential. Neither of them stop to notice [their fusion music](http://louiezong.com/post/176846623299/new-album-made-over-a-few-days-in-an-airbnb-in) is playing in the air.

“…There is no other option. I will not allow myself to leave you here.”

There’s tears shining in Roman’s eyes, and he looks down. “Are you sure about this?”

“Roman, it’s okay. We’ll win together. We’ll get out of this.”

Logan shifts around in the tiny space and faces Roman, who grabs at his shoulders. They breathe together, counting silently until Roman’s breathing a bit easier. Gently, Logan brushes Roman’s hair to the side, and then he leans forward to place a chaste, platonic kiss on Roman’s forehead.

And _then—_

There’s no pain; there’s no dark. There’s no Roman and Logan, because [they’re Perfectionism](https://ibb.co/gWoBxe) and there’s no cove, because they’ve broken out by their sheer size and there’s no drying blood, because there’s no bite marks. There’s no wounds; there’s no worries. They stand tall, wearing a stylish waistcoat over tight gray jeans; wearing no obstructing glasses over their multi-color irises. 

They look at their four hands. They look at their two leather shoes. Where Roman had burnt pants, they have jeans so well fit, it tucks easily into their shoes. Where Logan had short sleeves, they have a white button-up rolled up so calculated, it doesn't obstruct their elbows. They feel happy. Happy to be together; happy to be safer.

They narrow their eyes.

They have four, four hands to hold their nandaos with, and they have four, four eyes to catch every tiny motion with. Two books. Two dragons.

They stand ready, able to use the handles of their nandaos as microphones, able to use their voice to alter reality. They’re powerful. They're adept. They focus in.

Now, the dragons in front of them seem to be the size of horses, and _now_ , they stand a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roman+Logan=Logince/Perfectionism/Narrator (Plural they/them pronouns, uses the royal “we/us”)  
> Perfectionism’s Fusion Song: the sun never sets-louie zong


	6. Logos

 Logince limps to the door, to Mind Palace.

“We did it precisely, completely,” they mutter to themselves (though both Logince as a being was male, they were dissonant to an extent that singular he/him pronouns felt wrong). “We just have to get to Patton. To Virgil.”

They’d beaten the two dragons, but not before the Hungarian Horntail bit their leg. Even with the hindrance, they defeated both beasts, they re-booked the dragons. As soon as it was just the fusion in the observatory, the magic of the room shrunk everything back to size, shrunk everything back down. They were still massive, about eight feet tall, but at least they fit through doors, through the halls. Logince, ever the practical thinker, used their combined powers (Roman’s reality-warping magic and Logan’s control over his own rooms) to fix the damage that had been done to the area, to seal away each of the books in the library. They wouldn’t be Perfectionism if they didn’t make the most of their time. They wouldn’t be Perfectionism if they didn’t finish the job.

Now, all that’s left for them to do is go down the stairs, to get help.

They make their way across the room, then make their way down the stairs. It’s a painstakingly slow speed, but the injury burns too much to speed it up. Everything’s starting to hurt, even their chest and one of their arms. They hiss as Roman’s injuries fade further and further into reality. They grunt as the wounds widen and worsen with time.

With a groan, they took the last step down, they limp out into the living room. They can hear the sounds of talking from the kitchen. They can feel exhaustion seeping in. “Patton? Virgil?”

The talking stops and Virgil glances over the half wall, Patton drops a plate in shock. “Logince?”

“Hello,” Logince mumbles.

“What happened to you two?!” Virgil shouts, darting out of the kitchen, darting towards the closet to grab something or other.

Patton races towards them, reaches up to support them. He recoils as his hands come back bloody. He flinches as he looks over the wounds. “Oh my gosh. Oh… my gosh, unfuse _right now_ , you two!”

“You need to be ready, you need to be in place to heal us,” Logince says. “Do you think you can use magic? Use your healing powers? That’d be nice. We’d like that. Heal Roman first, he took significant damage. Heal Logan second, he’ll be better off.”

“Sure thing, kiddos,” Patton nods. They’re grateful; Patton always seemed to understand how they needed everything to be set up and executed just right. And they’re relieved; Patton’s always trustworthy to see his promises through. “Virgil? You up for Lifeguard duty?”

Logince follows the motion and sees that Virgil has laid a plastic cover over the dining table. Virgil has gauze and bandage wraps on the counter as well. “ **I don’t think I can keep it together,”** Virgil says. His voice is distorted. His voice echoes. Which is troubling. “ **You’ll have to fly solo.** ”

“That’s alright, Virge. Logince, come here,” Patton coos, taking two of their hands and gently guiding them.

They limp to follow, lay themselves down on the table with a grunt, shift until they’re laid down in the exact center of the table.

“Virgil, stay on that side,” Paton says in his Serious Dad Voice. “You comfort whoever ends up over there, alright?”

“ **Alright,** ” Virgil agrees shakily.

Patton reaches his hand out, carefully holds one of Logince’s hands. “It’s okay, you can unfuse.”

And they do—

And then Logan’s gritting his teeth and clenching his fists because he’s not holding Patton’s hand anymore and it hurts so much more alone.

Other hands encase his though and intertwine together. “ **Logan, breathe. Breathe, man. You’re kinda freaking me out here.** ”

Logan pushes his eyes open for a moment before he forces himself to relax a bit. “Hello, Virgil.”

“ **Just wait a minute, Dad’s fixing Princey up and then he’ll be right here. It won’t hurt for much longer,** ” Virgil rambles. His voice is pitched down and echoing demonically, but that fact is of negligible importance when his body hurts so badly. Logan doesn't even notice.

“It hurts significantly worse alone,” Logan mutters. “When we were the Narrator, everything that hurt Roman before was just a dull throb. Now I feel it all.”

“ **You’re not alone,** ” Virgil says.

“I am.”

“ **You’re not. Hey, as soon as you get fixed up, let’s be Analogic for a while,** ” Virgil says quickly. “ **Just until you heal. We can get through some of the conspiracies I have bookmarked and do whatever you like.** ”

“That…” Logan pauses, trying not to pass out for a second. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You could wind up sore from our— well, Roman’s wounds.”

“ **That’s fine, man. I’m _kinda_ freaking out seeing you so hurt,** ” Virgil says.

For the first time, Logan actually registers the distortion of Virgil’s voice. Not only that, but it also has a nearly hysteric tone to it as well. “What about Roman?” Logan asks, trying to distract Virgil by feigning normalcy.

“ **Roman's almost as good as new. He passed out seconds after you unfused. Pat's almost done.** ”

“Okay,” Logan says, tired.

There are a few beats where he relaxes, but Virgil’s hands pull his up enough to jostle him. “ **Logan, hey, stay with me. Only a minute, okay? Is that reasonable?** ”

Logan clears his throat. “Very well.”

“ **So what do you think? You and me? Analogic for a while until I’m sure you’re okay?** ”

“How long do you think that’ll be?” Logan asks.

“ **A day,** ” Virgil says. “ **Maybe two? Not super long.** ”

Logan’s about to respond when his leg suddenly stops hurting and instead feels warm and weightless. He lets out a ragged sigh as his body relaxes. He knows Patton’s working overtime to heal both of them, but this is the best option at the minute. Patton will be exhausted and will have to sleep for a few days straight, but nobody will be in danger of infection or illness.

Patton’s magic works up Logan’s body, stopping at the ribs. When they’d fused, Logan caught an understanding of Roman’s side of the right, and vice versa. Smaug had almost severed him in half and would have seriously hurt Roman had he not gotten his sword upright in Smaug’s mouth so that upon biting down, it stabbed the roof of the dragon’s mouth. Before that, though, the Hungarian Horntail had knocked Roman down and stepped on his arm, splitting the skin open. And before that, he’d been grabbed by Smaug’s talons and flung into the ground, breaking several ribs. After half an hour of being fused, about half the damage had been transferred to Logan.

Now, though, Patton’s magic coursed through his veins, lifting the physical pain and spreading upwards through his body. Before long, every sore spot on his body felt light and warm instead of painful.

“How you feelin’, Logan?” Patton asks.

“Better,” Logan mumbles, looking up at Patton. Patton looked terribly pale, having just healed six major injuries. “You should get to your room and rest. We’ll look after things while you sleep.”

“Thanks,” the moral side smiles, sinking out. As he leaves, the warmth of the magic fades, and the weightless sensation fades into tingling.

“Virgil, were you serious about fusing?” Logan asks as he shifts to stand up.

Virgil nods quietly and reaches out to support Logan. “We don’t have to, but it’d be nice. I know I don’t want to be alone right now, and it seems like it’d feel physically better for you to share the healing process with someone.”

“Alright then,” Logan says.

Usually, they would put effort into a dance. Logan’s preferred style of dance was ballroom, and Virgil’s was k-pop, but neither moved apart to initiate a formal dance. Instead, Logan wraps his arms around Virgil’s waist, pulling him into a hug. Virgil’s arms fold over his shoulders and slowly, they rock back and forth from one side to the other. Logan glances up at the ceiling when [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ftLJO5B4es) fills his ears. It sounds almost dissonant at the start, just like them, but it always comes around and resolves.

Logan pulls his arms tighter around Virgil, and the anxious side sinks into his chest as they fuse together—

He forms slow and steady, two arms and two legs and four eyes and six-and-a-half feet tall.

[Curiosity](https://ibb.co/ibB03U) cracks an eye open and then opens all four. He pushes his glasses up and notices that Roman is passed out on the table still. “Oh no,” Curiosity frowns. “Can’t believe I _forgot_ about him.”

He walks around the table and pulls Roman into his arms. He dumps Roman on the couch and then folds the sheet on the table. Curiosity puts that on top of the laundry machine to wash later.

“Everything’s a mess,” he mumbles to himself. “I guess I’ll have to take breaks from research to check on both of these two.”

Curiosity plops down on the couch adjacent to Roman. He summons his laptop from his room, which is upstairs on a new, diagonal wall between Virgil’s room and Logan’s room. He opens it and clicks around.

“Oh good,” he smirks, finding Virgil’s list of conspiracies. “I've written down a list of things to look into.”

But then, he pauses and spares another glance at Roman, who’s made an upset noise in his sleep. The Creative side shifts in a disturbed sleep.

“ _That_ won’t do,” Curiosity frowns. He raises a hand and makes a circle with his fingers pointed at Roman. “Calm down. You’re safe now, there’s no reason to worry.”

With a touch of magic, the thought is put into Princey’s head, and he quickly calms down into a peaceful slumber. It’s one of Curiosity’s powers; the ability to suggest logical solutions to the anxieties of others. It’s a gift, he supposes.

“Now,” he smiles privately to himself. “What is this theory about there being no forests on Earth?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil+Logan=Analogic/Curiosity/Scholar (Singular he/him, uses “I/me”)  
> Curiosity’s Fusion Song: summer-louie zong


	7. Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know I didn't actually have Productivity in this chapter but I drew him anyway. Also, thank you to everyone who comments! I honestly fawn over every single one for days and days. Thank you for reading!

 “All six days? So you guys were fused that whole time?” Thomas asks, staring confused at his laptop screen. “I was so focused, I didn’t even think to talk to you.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda our fault. We lost ourselves a little bit. Actually, we were fused up until yesterday,” Virgil says. He’s perched on the armchair of the couch next to Thomas. “Roman was back to normal about a day after the whole thing, so he fused with us and then we were just working things out until Patton got back.”

Thomas frowns and glances at his phone again. “I don’t think that I made the best decisions with you all fused.”

Virgil winces. He knows that it was partially his fault that they didn’t unfuse earlier, but they were on a roll with script planning and organization and there was just no reason to _stop_ until Patton was back, so, in his defense, they had a reason. On the other hand, Thomas now has to text everyone except Joan and apologize for isolating himself for almost a week. Thomas had brushed off every invite to meet up or hang out because he’d been doing so much work planning with Joan that he didn’t have time.

“They’ll understand,” Thomas says, presumably to calm Virgil down. “They wouldn’t be my friends if they weren’t prepared for me to go a little crazy sometimes.”

“Right,” Virgil agrees quietly.

“So what _is_ the fusion between the three of you anyway?”

“[Productivity](https://ibb.co/hYLVsz),” Virgil grumbles. As much as Patton loves it, Thomas’s growing obsession with figuring out the fusion combinations, Virgil can’t say he enjoys it. It feels too much like prying.

“… Do you not like being Productivity?” Thomas asks gently.

“What?” Virgil asks, shocked. “No! Being him is fine, okay? It just takes a lot out of you. It’s like two super unstable fusions balanced on one pretty okay one. Usually, Patton makes us unfuse every day when we’re him to make sure we’re holding up okay. It was just odd to have to check ourselves.”

“Oh, alright,” Thomas nods. He looks back at his computer. “Hey, do you remember what this little note meant? Clearly, it’s a short idea, but I don’t remember where I was going with it.”

“Not really,” Virgil says without looking at it.

Thomas sighs with a smile. “Come on, Virge. Productivity drove me to write all this stuff, so you’ve gotta know!”

“Well, _I’m_ not Productivity,” Virgil huffs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll try to figure it out on my own,” Thomas mumbles, losing the playful tone he had before.

Virgil feels the guilt pooling in his gut the second Thomas turns to the computer. He pulls out his phone and scrolls for a few minutes in silence. When he looks back over, Thomas is still staring at the memo. “You know, Roman probably could figure it out,” Virgil concedes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s the sort of thing Productivity gets from Roman, so he can probably figure it out.”

“Thank you,” Thomas says. “Roman!”

“Yes?” Roman answers, rising up from the floor surprisingly fast. “What can I help you two with?”

“Productivity wrote down a sketch idea or something,” Virgil shrugs, burying his face in his phone again.

And so Roman sparks up a conversation with Thomas easily, plopping down close and wrapping an arm over Thomas’s shoulder. That kind of ease was never something that came naturally to Virgil, no matter how welcoming people tried to be. Patton had tried to welcome him into cuddle sessions a thousand times, but as soon as someone’s arms were around him, he realized he was in an uncomfortable position and then he needed to move but he couldn’t move too much and disturb the other person and he really wanted to relax but it just never worked out. It’s easier to avoid the whole thing. So he sits, letting Roman do the things he can’t: hang out, relax, make small talk, and joke around.

“So if we add that to the list, we should have enough shorts by the end of the month to make a compilation on the scale of the others,” Roman says when he finishes explaining the ideas about the short.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Thomas nods. “Let’s hope we can stay on track and get it done that soon.”

“We can always trust Finding Emo over here to help us meet deadlines,” Roman quips.

“Careful, or you might admit that you’re the one who makes us miss them,” Virgil shoots back before he even knows he’s doing it.

“Oh, give me a break,” Roman mumbles.

“Guys, take a step back,” Thomas interrupts, leaning forward to be directly between the two. “You guys were working so well together when you were fused. What’s with the shade?”

“We unfused because of Roman,” Virgil growls.

“Okay, hold on,” Roman says. “It’s not _my_ fault you fell on your face when we unfused. And it’s not _my_ fault we unfused either! You two just didn’t want to welcome Patton back as much as me. Manager can’t handle my emotions.”

“Manager? Thomas asks.

“Productivity’s nickname,” Virgil clarifies to thomas before turning to Roman. “I wanted to welcome him back, I just didn’t want to toss him in the air like a baby,” Virgil says.

“What’s the use of a _fusion_ if you can’t use your _strength_ for good?” Roman shouts.

“Shows of strength are different from obnoxious physical contact, _Roman_.”

“Both of you! Please,” Thomas shouts. “Chill.”

“I’m _sorry!_ He’s just so darn good at pushing my buttons,” Roman whines.

“Your button is so huge, it’s hard to miss. It’s called your ego,” Virgil says.

“Virgil,” Thomas says, surprised. “You too!”

“Sorry,” Virgil mumbles. He sinks a little bit into his hoodie, leans back into the wall, and turns away.

“You guys were fused for days. Why is it so different now?”

“We had a common goal,” Roman sighs. “Distract ourselves from Patton’s absence and do something _helpful._ And it didn’t hurt that there was a mediator -Logan- in the mix too. Virgil and I just have a relationship built on natural bickering.”

“But don’t you guys have a fusion? I didn’t think that your relationship was so bad that it was toxic.”

“We do, it’s just… like Virgil said, King is unstable. We can form him, but…”

“... Think of it like this,” Virgil says when the conversation stalls. “Amethyst and Garnet don’t have a toxic relationship, but Sugalite _still_ kinda sucks, huh?”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Roman agrees. “Except King wouldn’t try to kill you from boredom.”

“Probably not,” Virgil says under his breath.

“I’m sorry, ‘ _probably_ not’?” Thomas interjects.

“King is very disagreeable, and he’s _super_ touchy,” Roman says. “Who _knows_ if any of us can physically harm Thomas, but with the extent of our combined magic, I’d bet King is one of the most probable threats.”

“Roman,” Virgil hisses, feeling Thomas’s fear rush over him in a wave. “Stop!”

“King is dangerous! Admit it, Detective J. J. _Bitter_ -binder! Thomas has to know the tricks of how to unfuse us before we wind up messing everything up.”

“You’re scaring him,” Virgil yells.

“Maybe he _should_ be, huh? The only one of our fusions that’s unstable enough to hurt allies. Or did you forget when we lost control at Logan? We _can’t_ control ourselves, and if Thomas is going to see us as him eventually, he has a _right_ to know that!”

“What, do you wanna give him a demonstration _right now_? You’re _scaring_ him, Princey! Maybe the reason King is so god damn awful is that you don’t _trust me_ to be good,” Virgil yells.

Roman’s face looks angry and shocked, and Virgil can’t even see Thomas’s face, so before either of them come at him for picking fights, he sinks out.

He appears in the middle his own common room, where he plops down on a beanbag chair. Roman is hard to deal with, and even harder to keep calm around. It’s just so natural to fall into a pattern of insults and clapbacks that it’s hard not to. Even when he knows he’s starting to dig too deep, Roman ups the ante and it eliminates all guilt he might have felt.

Virgil puts his hands over his face and sighs.

He really _does_ wish that they could form King without any of the residual anger. It’s just always too hard to ignore.

There’s a knock on his door.

Virgil groans. Even though it’s not Roman (which it hardly ever is, especially not right after a fight), he’s reluctant to see anyone right now. He’s just too shaken. Then again, he can’t leave Patton or Logan hanging. So, he pushes himself up and opens the door with half-lidded eyes and he’s ready to spit out a sulking “yes?”, but the second he looks up at the knocker his heart stops in his chest.

The visitor gives him a toothy grin and a wave. When Virgil fails to respond, the side brushes right past him with a pat on his shoulder and makes his way into the room. “Honestly, Anxiety, spiderwebs look so great as a design choice.”

Virgil turns and forces himself to register Deceit, standing in his commons room, critiquing his interior design.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logan+Roman+Virgil=Rogil/Productivity/Manager (Singular he/him pronouns, uses “we/us”)  
> Productivity’s Fusion Song: ratatat inspired-louie zong


	8. Virgil

 “Hello there, A. I don’t need to talk to you,” Deceit says.

“Why are you here?” Virgil asks, shooting up. He locks his room and tries to calm down as his heart beats out of control. “This is a huge risk.”

“It _isn’t_ worth it,” Deceit says. His terrible habit of compulsive and lazy lying is shining through as he adds a negative or a double negative into his statements just to be technically lying.

“What would possibly have you risking one of the others catching a Dark Side in the Mind Palace?”

“Look who isn’t talking,” Deceit deadpans.

Virgil flushes and shakes his head.

“Fine. I _definitely_ didn’t come to give you a warning,” Deceit says. Virgil already has questions, but Deceit plows on, “I assumed you _totally_ wouldn’t want to know that we Dark Sides are planning on confronting Thomas in two months. We aren’t tired of doing our jobs with no recognition, and we _absolutely_ aren’t plotting on merging the levels of the Mindscape.”

“No,” Virgil mutters. “You can’t. We can’t just let you run around, it’d ruin Thomas’s life! It took me _ten years_ for Thomas to accept me and work with me. How long do you think it’d take if you just barged in?”

Deceit nods and rolls his eyes. “I _definitely_   don’t agree. That’s why I’m not here to give you a chance to get back on our good sides before the table flips.”

“I’m not interested in being on the side who wins, I’m interested in what this’ll do to Thomas!”

“What do you want me to do about it?” Deceit snaps, his façade of transparent lies shattering.

“Stand up to him,” Virgil hisses.

Deceit chuckles in a tone that makes Virgil feel like he’s an idiot for even suggesting it.

Virgil shakes his head. “The others aren’t going to let you demand Thomas to feel worse. That’s what you want, right? To share the emotions you police so you’ll have an easier job? Deceit, are you just gonna let that happen?”

“I can’t _stop_ it, Anxiety,” Deceit says truthfully. “I’m just trying to be a friend.”

“Well, what do you want _me_ to do?”

“Come back with me,” Deceit says. He waves a hand at the floor. “Tell him how you did it. Maybe we can solve this peacefully.”

“I’m not going back there,” Virgil yelps.

“Then— then ask Thomas to _talk_ to us. Listen to us. He understands what we do, right? He knows because you told him. He _knows_ that we don’t create our aspects, we filter them for him,” Deceit smiles.

Virgil’s face twists and he has to look away.

“Anxiety? He knows, _right_?” There’s another short pause before he yells “A, you _must_   have told him!”

“You can’t come up here, D. You guys can’t be trusted not to hurt everyone,” Virgil spits out, but he closes his eyes as a weight fills his chest. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “Maybe— if we start with just you? Stay here.”

“I can’t,” Deceit whispers.

“ _Yes,_  you can!”

“No, Virge, I _can’t_!” Deceit shouts.

The room gets the kind of silence that’s far too loud. After a moment, Virgil can’t meet his eyes. “Fib,” Virgil whispers. It brings back memories of when they were children and Deceit was only just figuring out that he lied unintentionally sometimes. Virgil knew when he was lying to himself though; Virgil always knew. He would just say the word ‘fib’, just as a reality check so that Deceit would know he was lying.

Deceit stares at him now, face shocked. Then he sputters out a laugh and runs a hand through his hair even though the action knocks off his hat. “Fine. I can. But I won’t. He’d come after me and it’ll hurt so much more if I try to run away.”

“He didn’t come for me,” Virgil tries.

“He didn’t come for _you_ because you were getting too hard for me to hide,” Deceit growls. “Now grow up, Virgil! This is how it is!”

Virgil takes a few steps backward in shock and backs into a lamp. It falls, and it breaks, and the noise and the shock and the fear send him spiraling back and suddenly—

* * *

 

_Suddenly he’s not in his room anymore._

_Suddenly he’s not Virgil anymore, he’s Anxiety._

_Suddenly he’s thirteen-and-a-half and he’s standing amidst the other Dark Sides as they’ll be known before long. Deceit, his lifelong friend, is holding his hand._

_It’s not often that they get to witness Thomas’s experiences, but Thomas is jittery lately, so they see more than usual. They’re watching through Thomas’s eyes as Thomas stares at a boy he’s crushing hard on. Each and every one of the sides_ feel _it, but the Dark Sides worry because Anxiety worries and it’s too reasonable to ignore._

_“He’s totally going to confess his love without a hitch. This isn’t going to be a train wreck at all,” Deceit lies. “What do we do?”_

_“We need Distrust,” the leader says._

_“That’s not fine with me,” Deceit says, meaning the opposite and squeezing Anxiety’s hand for reassurance._

_“Wait,” Anxiety says._

_The weight of the world falls on his shoulders as everyone in the room looks at him at the same time._

_“What if we ruin it? What if this could be something good?” he mumbles._

_There’s a pause so tense that Anxiety half expects to end with them breaking into laughter at him. He can feel the stress radiating out as he fails to reign it in, and he can see as it manifests as eyeshadow on the other Dark Sides._

_“Get Thomas to think of the other possibility, or you’ll have bigger problems to deal with,” comes the stone cold reply._

_Anxiety can’t even get a word out either way before Deceit nods and pulls him away and into Anxiety’s room. “Deceit!?”_

_“We have to, you heard him,” Deceit says. “It’s for the best.”_

_“Fib,” Anxiety says._

_“It’s for the best!” Deceit says._

_“You’re lying!”_

_“Fine, it’s for your_ own good _!”_

_“You can’t decide that for me,” Anxiety hisses. “We could be messing this up big time.”_

_Deceit’s face darkens. “Look._ This _little twerp is white and has a rich, Catholic family. Chances are he_ only _likes us because we’re worse at sports than him. Chances are, he’s straight, and_ chances are _, he’s gonna hate our guts if he_ ever _finds out. Let’s do some digging, look for some hard proof. You’ll see I’m right.”_

_Anxiety pauses, looking down at his hands._

_“Anxiety,” Deceit calls sharply, extending a hand._

_“I—“ Anxiety feels his throat close up._

_“Grow up and_ come here. _Now, Virgil!”_

_Scared, Virgil lets Deceit[take his hand](https://soundcloud.com/gradientdescent/anis-song) and—_

_Then he’s[Anxceit](https://ibb.co/c89xHz), and it’s a blur as he makes Thomas mention lesbians and gays in the context of porn and they watch their crush tell Thomas it’s disgusting and he lets himself go back to his side of the Mindscape to get congratulated by _ him _and—_

_When they unfuse, Anxiety is on the ground, curled up._

_“Virgil I—“_

_“ **Get away!** ”_

_“Virge— Anxiety,” Deceit calls out, hurt. “I’m so sorry. You know I had to.”_

_“ **You’re such a liar,”** Virgil whispers over his tears._

_“You’re my best friend, I didn’t want to! He would have hurt you so bad, I couldn’t possibly— Anxiety let me help you.”_

_Virgil doesn’t respond, so Deceit sits with him and pulls Virgil’s hand to his own chest and breathes deep. Then, carefully, Deceit’s hand is placed on Virgil’s chest and Virgil gasps for air again. After long, silent minutes, Virgil slows his breathing to match._

_“Anxiety,” Deceit croaks. “Come back to me.”_

_“I never want to fuse with you again,” Virgil says._

_Deceit’s chest stutters under Virgil’s fingers, but he drags a breath in after a minute. “Okay. I think it’s time you leave here.”_

_“What?”_

_“He’ll hurt you if you refuse to be Distrust again. So run. I’ll say you’re getting too hard to hide. It’s true anyway, Thomas will find out he has anxiety soon regardless. Run to the upside of the Mindscape, and don’t tell anyone your name.”_

_“Names are power,” Virgil mutters. It’s something Deceit taught him about lying; people are much more susceptible to manipulation if you use their name in a sentence. “I won’t.”_

_“I’m so sorry this happened,” Deceit whispers._

_“Thank you.”_

* * *

 

“—gil? Can you hear me, Virge?” Deceit asks.

Virgil’s confused for a second because his hand is still on Deceit’s chest but then he realizes—

It’s now, not then. Deceit’s in his new room, calming him down from a different panic attack. He pulls his hand out of Deceit’s grasp and shoves Deceit’s hand from his chest, but somehow Deceit’s face only becomes relieved at that. “There you aren’t. So bad to see you.”

“I’m not coming back with you, and I’m _not_ going to tell Thomas to play nice,” Virgil says as soon as he catches his breath.

Deceit’s face falls into a poker face and he stands up. “I wished it would come to this.” Deceit raises a hand and Virgil feels his own hand raise too, like a puppet’s. When Deceit closes his fist, Virgil’s hand clamps over his mouth. “You will not speak of my warning. Not to _Thomas,_ not to _any_ of the sides, Light or Dark. You will not write it down either. You, Virgil, will _never_   breathe a word about it in any form you take until it’s already happening.”

As soon as Deceit’s done, Virgil pushes his own hand down and breathes hard.

“I’m sorry.”

Virgil takes a few more ragged breaths and looks up at Deceit through his bangs. “Fib.”

Deceit chuckles. “I wish it was. It would make this so much easier.”

Then, he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil+Deceit=Anxceit/Distrust/Thief (Singular he/him pronouns, uses “I/me”)  
> Distrust’s Fusion Song: ani's song-gradient descent
> 
> **NOTE: This version of Thief is a past version from Thomas's teenage years, hence the old outfit, brown hair, and any other differences between this Thief and versions you may or may not see later.


	9. Vigilant

 Virgil spends the better part of three weeks freaking out solo.

He makes sure he has a firm grasp on his own anxiety, and that when he’s losing the battle to keep it to himself, he spends the excess energy on creating more monsters in his locked rooms. The hallway in his wing is long, and hardly used. There’s only one door that’s not locked; his bedroom. Each if the other dozens of doors is padlocked and sealed with pagan sigils for posterity and aesthetic. It’s where he keeps the Shadow Creatures. It’d been his job back when he lived with the Dark Sides to keep the physical manifestations of dark thoughts in check, and now he does it alone. Creating them is one of the only ways to get rid of his own anxiety without pushing it onto Thomas.

During that time, he keeps his head low and tries to act as normal as possible. Things around him resume at a normal pace.

One evening, twenty days after Deceit’s visit, Thomas makes a complaint to the sides about his inability to figure out how often he should be talking to his family. As a solution, Logan suggests a fusion might help.

“Fusion?” Thomas exclaims. “Of who? For what? How?!”

“The fusion of Paton and I is, for lack of a better term, a therapist. Not a _licensed_   one, obviously, but he’s been told he’s _surprisingly_ good at his job,” Logan says with a smirk. “Did I get anything incorrect, Patton?”

“Nothing I would **Doc** -k you points for!” Patton exclaims.

Virgil tunes out for the entirety of their [music](https://soundcloud.com/louie-zong/fading-light), dance, and fusion. [Empathy](https://ibb.co/bKBCLK) appears in his typical extravagant fashion, wearing his sweater vest and glasses and pencil tucked behind his ear. Empathy almost looks human, if one ignores the extra set of legs arranged behind him like Squidward in _Spongebob the Musical_ (it used to be centaur-like, but they changed it after agreeing it was a more interesting design choice). Empathy is, admittedly, very good at his job, but talking with him makes Virgil feel like he’s about to spill his guts to a stranger, so he tries to avoid the therapist as often as possible.

Thomas and Empathy share quips about the unintentional representation of Empathy as Dr. Picani in Cartoon Therapy, but at that point, they’re at such a high-velocity back-and-forth of 90’s cartoon references that Virgil can’t bother to keep up.

“Wanna ditch?” Roman asks quietly.

Virgil flinches, having forgotten that he wasn’t the only one watching Empathy and Thomas talk. “What, can’t deal with not being the most extra one in the room?”

Instead of the anger Virgil expects, Roman chuckles hardily. “Something like that. We can hang out in the Commons if you want.”

“Sure,” Virgil agrees. He half expects a prank or ‘gotcha’ joke, but Roman sinks out without further comment. Virgil, still lost, follows suit.

“Want any snacks?” Roman asks in the Commons. He’s made his way over to the fridge and is rooting around.

“No thanks,” Virgil says.

“Alright,” comes the response.

In the quiet, Virgil takes a seat on the couch. He checks his phone but there are no notifications that matter. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he feels extremely awkward.

“I got you the finest glass of tap water money can buy,” Roman announces as he walks back into the living room. He’s holding one lemonade too, but he hands a cup of water to Virgil as he passes,

“Thanks…” Virgil says awkwardly.

“What?” Roman asks.

“It just feels _weird_   right now. Do you want something?”

“Yeah, a little,” Roman says, finally sounding a little annoyed. “I want to apologize, alright?”

Virgil never thought he’d be in this situation. Roman apologizing to him unbidden. “… what?”

“Look, I _noticed_ , alright? The others didn’t, but I can do the math,” Roman explains, putting down the lemonade. “I kept pushing you and _pushing_ you, and that was wrong of me, I can admit that. But to _push_ about _King_ and say all those awful things was _absolutely_ out of line. You warned me time and time again that I was frightening poor Thomas, but I ignored you and quite clearly hurt your feelings. I need you to know that no matter how hard King is to control, I like being him. I _like_ the way we vibe together, you know? I’m deeply sorry if anything I said about him to Thomas gave you the impression that I don’t like _you_.”

“You…” Virgil mutters, “… think I’ve been upset about our fight about King.”

“ _Yes_! The very same night was when you began acting so differently. Look, I can prove it to you. We can form King _right_ now, and it’ll be better than _ever_ before.”

Virgil’s mouth dropped open. “No— Roman, I can’t.”

“I _promise_ I will do everything I can to make it safe for you,” Roman says with a pained voice. He’s trying _so hard_ to help, even when he can’t see that he’s wrong about the problem. “I’ll try to help in any way I can. Here, I’ll pull up our song.”

Virgil watches Roman stand and pull out his phone. “Roman, you don’t understand. I can’t possibly tell you how—“ Virgil feels his throat close up. It’s the first time he’s actually attempted to explain why he’s been moody, so it’s also the first time magic shuts his voice down. Deceit’s curse does its job perfectly.

Roman lowers his phone a little and looks Virgil in the eye. “I know it’s hard to explain things with words. Please, just trust me, I’ll do my best to understand as King. I can take it, whatever it is.”

“That—“ Virgil’s eyes widen. “That’s... not such a bad idea.”

Roman’s eyes practically sparkle. “ _Wonderful_! Shall we?”

He[ hits the play button](https://soundcloud.com/gradientdescent/gatil-gatil), and Roman whisks him away to the open space of the living room.

Virgil dances with him, bouncing and stepping smoothly around his twirls. They fall into an odd kind of dance where Roman would strike a pose and Virgil would add to it with fleeting contact. The styles might clash if they weren’t so aware of each other’s movements. Virgil’s strong strides accentuated with shoulder movements accompany by Roman’s seamless pirouettes and careful backward steps. Virgil hadn’t even noticed they’d reached the shift in the song until Roman steps right into his space, set his hands on Virgils back, and dips him—

—And then [King](https://ibb.co/kFztSz) is whole again for the first time in a while. He looks down at his fingers -or claws really, ever since the jock decided they were cooler- tipped in ashy charcoal.

He’s not as dissonant as usual, actually, which must mean that the prep and the goth are getting along for some reason. He notices he’s making coherent thoughts instead of ones pitched with a distorted voice. His crown of steel floats above his head as usual, and his five eyes are all operational when he blinks them one by one. He still has four arms, one set split from the other at the elbow. His outfit is, as always, _beautifully_ sinister. Of course, a King like himself has to be on top of his game. Which… he hasn’t been recently, actually. He’s been kind of a mess.

Because…

Oh. _Weird._ He can’t put the thoughts together. That’s gotta be fixed.

He sinks out without so much as another second of wasted time.

He’s learned that his time in the Mindscape is always limited, and he has to make the most of his reign. He reappears right in the nerd’s wing, where everything sparkles golden and shiny like a Snapchat filter. The beloved idiot never leaves it locked or checks if anyone’s there anyway. King opens the door to the Memory Theatre and steps into the booth. It only takes a second of concentration on the almost-memory before the projector latches on and begins a countdown.

King takes his seat in the front row of the movie theatre and leans back to watch and make sense of the mystery. The video starts from the goth’s point of view. King instantly sets his mouth in a deep frown when _that poser_  turns to look at the camera.

 

“ _Honestly, Anxiety, spiderwebs look so great as a design choice. Hello there, A. I don’t need to talk to you.”_

_“Why are you here? This is a huge risk.”_

 

Slowly, King’s face becomes grimmer throughout the short film. He watches the sincere fight and a short burst of static what's probably a flashback and the curse be placed upon the goth. The reason he hadn’t been able to think of it clearly was increasingly obvious; the dumb curse stopped the goth from mentioning it, or even _thinking_ it in his fusion. And clearly, if the poser was on his way to fight, the punk would be there to shout about it too. No doubt it was that jock's idea. None of this would do, of course. Preparations would have to be made by all of the Light Sides to get ready for the attack, and they would have to alert Thomas as well.

The film cut as soon as the punk sunk out of frame, and the very short credits rolled.

 

CAST

Anxiety Sanders as himself

Deceit Sanders as himself

PRODUCER

Morality Sanders

 

King doesn’t even bother standing up before sinking out.

He rises up in Thomas’s living room and crosses one set of arms.

King notices that the nerd and the teeniebopper are fused for whatever dumb reason they’ve deemed vital. He simply clears his throat, and Doc cuts off instantly in the middle of whatever unimportant thing he was saying to Thomas and stares.

“King!?” Thomas asks, gobsmacked. He looks shocked and maybe even a bit frightened.

King chuckles deeply. “Our reputation precedes us.”

Doc stands up from the couch and stumbles towards King. “ _What_ are you two—“

Midsentence, they unfuse and the teeniebopper continues marching right up to King, yelling in a 'fatherly' voice meant to be intimidating, “— doing? We’re trying to create a _safe space_ for Thomas and—“

King lifts a finger and places it over the teeniebopper’s mouth to shut him up. “Same here, old man. The situation’s changed, something more important came up than you three playing therapy up here.”

“What’s changed?” the nerd asks.

King opens his mouth to answer but finds his voice inoperable.

Then, he’s furious— how _dare_ a puny curse from that little poser stop a damn king from speaking. He needs the prep to say it if the goth can’t. With a screech, he lifts all four arms, makes tight scoops with his hands, and plunges all of them into his chest before pulling apart and—

Virgil pops out on the left side and nearly falls on the ground. His only saving grace is Roman, who grabs him and pulls Virgil into his arms. They slide to the ground together, Virgil pulled up against Roman’s chest. Virgil’s shaking from shock and frustration, but Roman is too, so he tips his head back onto Roman’s chest and trusts him to deliver the message.

“The Dark Sides are coming,” Roman says for him. “They want a fight.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patton+Logan=Locality/Empathy/Doctor (singular he/him pronouns, uses “I/me”)  
> Empathy’s Fusion Song: fading light-louie zong  
> Virgil+Roman=Prinxiety/Bravery/King (singular he/him pronouns, uses the royal “we”)  
> Bravery’s Fusion Song: gatil gatil (demo)-gradient descent


	10. Morality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops sorry for missing a week

 Patton has his work cut out for him.

He takes a breath and opens the oven, pulling out a searing hot tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven and setting it on top to cool.

“Do I smell cookies?” Roman asks, rising up out of the floor within seconds.

“Now there kiddo, you’ll have to wait until they cool down, or the bottom will rip off when you pick it up,” Patton scolds when Roman reaches for a cookie.

“ _Fine_ ,” Roman groans. “How long will it take until they’re edible?”

“I’d say fifteen minutes.”

“Okay,” Roman nods. “Then I’ll wait here with you!”

Patton watches him walk back to the couches of the Commons and flip on the TV, pulling up an episode of _Spongebob_ to kill time. He sighs watching Roman cross his arms. They’ve all had it hard this past week, but Roman seems to see it as a war about to break out. Maybe he’s not wrong, but every minute of the day this past week, he’s been sticking to a pretty strict schedule of fusion training in the Imagination Realm. It’s like he’s trying to set a personal best for monsters slain, both fused and solo. 

“Patton,” a quieter voice calls. “I’d like to ask for your insight on something.”

Patton turns and smiles at Logan, who walks into the kitchen holding a laptop in his hands. “Sure! What’s up Logan?”

“Do you believe that Deceit is in a stable enough relationship with the other Dark Sides to form Villain?”

“Now, Logan, you _know_   they’d need Virgil to form Villain,” Patton says. His smile slips, even though he really wants the mood to stay light.

Logan seems to notice the tone shift instantly. “You’re right,” he apologizes. “That was a foolish question. Do you believe they are stable enough to form Discontentment?”

Patton sighs. That’s a more difficult question, but it isn’t as loaded. “They can form whatever they want as long as they agree. I’m sure they’re capable.”

“Thank you,” Logan says. He sets the laptop on the counter, types frantically for a few seconds, and lifts it up again. The man checks over whatever he just wrote one more time and then looks up. “Out of pure curiosity, who are those dessert confections made for?”

“Anyone who wants them,” Patton grins, seeing right through the other’s act of disinterest. “There’s enough for all four of us.”

“Then I’ll continue my work at the table,” Logan nods.

Patton starts cleaning the bowls he used to whip up the batter. He knows that Logan’s also been extremely dedicated to the oncoming threat, but he wishes that the logical side would act a little more, well, _logical._ Instead of spending all his waking time alternating between Youtube planning and battle strategy, he wishes Logan would take a break to solve a new Rubik’s Cube or learn about another math puzzle. Instead, the threat looming over their shoulders has made Logan buckle down into his natural habits. And just when Patton thought they were making progress in welcoming Logan into casual hangouts…

Speaking of having a hard time casually hanging out, Virgil steps silently into the kitchen and pulls himself up onto an empty counter. He pulls his socked feet up onto the edge and wraps his arms around his knees.

Patton forces himself not to look at Virgil too long, or even directly acknowledge him at all. From his experience, Virgil’s tendency to perch places in the Commons meant he was trying to be present and a part of the family, but also that he was kind of uncomfortable and had something on his mind. So, Patton tries to passively respect his space by going about cleaning without disturbing Virgil at all. Over the next few minutes, Virgil’s legs drop over the counter until he’s leaning back on cabinets. It’s a good sign that he’s willing to interact.

“Anything going on, kiddo?” Patton asks, knowing it’s a simple enough question that can be brushed off if Virgil doesn’t want to talk.

“Nothing much,” Virgil shrugs, as expected.

Virgil’s been through a different type of stress lately. Sure, he’s been training with the others and helping talk to Thomas about the fusions, but he spends his off time worrying all over the Mindscape. Patton’s sensed him wandering around in Patton’s Wing from time to time, stopping in the theatre without watching anything and sitting in the garden for hours. All of it together, and Patton’s sure his dark strange son is more upset than anyone. He has a right to be, though. It is _his_ old family who is coming back to haunt him. Perhaps it isn’t his family of choice anymore, but it is the one he grew up with. Patton can’t imagine what that feels like.

His watch goes off.

The cookies solid enough to shift. He pulls out a clean spatula and runs it along the bottom of the cooking sheet. Thanks to the solution he’d sprayed on the pan before he placed the dough down, the cookies pop right off, bouncing into one another as he gently uproots them from their spots.

“Cookie?” Patton asks, lifting the whole tray up towards Virgil.

Virgil smiles and takes one, and then grabs two more and stacks them on his thigh. “Thanks, Dad.”

Patton grins and turns around. He picks up a plate from the cupboard, lifts the tray, and heads out to the living room. The singular plate is set on the table next to Logan’s laptop, getting his attention. Patton simply lowers the plate down and lets Logan pick two up

Without another word, he heads to Roman. He’s halfway into another episode, but he perks up when Patton comes. _“Padre!_   You come bearing gifts!”

“I did promise,” Patton grins. He lets Roman take five cookies, stacking one on top of the other until he has a precious pile which he quickly starts devouring.

“Delicious! You’ve outdone yourself,” Roman shouts. “Quite possibly the _best_   thing this week!”

“This is quite good,” Logan nods, which speaks volumes.

Patton grins. “As we all know, I’m pretty good at handling mental **bake** -downs!”

Roman chortles with laughter while Logan groans. A tiny snort from behind him tells Patton Virgil liked it too.

As Patton makes his way back to the kitchen, planning to put the tray back, Virgil steps out of the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says, “would you mind if I had another—“ he cuts himself off, looking down at the tray. Two left. “Oh, never mind, it’s all yours.”

“What?” Patton asks. “I made these for you. You take as many as you want!”

“I…” Virgil seems to debate with himself over it for a second before looking Patton in the eye. “You should get at least one. Deal?”

“Deal,” Patton nods.

Virgil takes a cookie and then reaches out his hand. He awkwardly pats Patton’s shoulder, offers a tiny, nervous quirk of a smile, and the hurries off to sit on the couch with Roman to watch the show.

Patton puts the tray down in the kitchen, rips off a paper towel, and shifts the last of the cookies onto it. He washes the tray with soap and hot water, closing his eyes and getting lost in it. If he concentrates past the faucet of water, he can hear _Spongebob_ dialogue from the speakers, and Roman and Virgil quietly discussing the episode, and the clacking of Logan’s keyboard. It’s as close to peaceful as they’ve gotten since this whole fusion thing started.

He shuts the water off and props the tray up to dry.

Patton takes his cookie, no longer entirely warm, and leans on his elbows to look at the living room from the kitchen. Roman bursts out laughing on the couch and even Virgil’s shoulders shake with chuckles. Logan looks up at them for a few seconds, pausing his work to watch them with a quiet smile. Patton breathes.

He takes a bite of the last cookie. This is all he needs. Laughter and smiles and thank yous and family. A dazzlingly positive review from Roman. Silent appreciation from Logan. The care that Virgil shows when he makes sure Patton gets the last cookie.

This is worth fighting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also sorry for the lack of a fusion hahaha this story needed to chill out for a bit.


	11. Patton

 “Is there anything I can do to help?” Patton asks.

“I’m fine, Padre,” Roman grits out.

“Can I just get you water or maybe some—“

“I _said_   I’m fine!”

Patton stands unflinching as Roman breathes very raggedly in his doorway of the Mind Palace. Roman is freshly-healed after one of the few failed training sessions they’ve had. It’s not the pain itself that has him so upset, it’s the sense of failure; Patton can feel the negative emotions radiating from him even feet away.

“I know you want to help, but _the point_   of this training is to better myself! So despite what you may think, you can’t help. Not with _this_. Leave it alone, Padre. There are some things perfect cookies and creative puns _can’t fix_ ,” Roman says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not coming down for dinner?” Patton asks, upset.

“I can conjure my own _food_ , believe it or not.”

“Conjured food doesn’t taste the same.”

“It’ll be _fine,_ ” is all the other side says before he slams his door shut.

Patton sighs deeply and walks back down the stairs to leave the Mind Palace. Roman’s so stressed out right now, even if he tries to wake up each morning with cheeriness and hope for the new day. He’s seen on their walks through Roman’s Imagination Realm the many gateways and doorways that Roman has sealed off in an attempt to lock away his many imagined villains and wild dreams. Patton’s assumed that he thought it would make it easier to focus on training with no surprises, but the lack of relaxation and fun is clearly out of Roman’s typical schedule. It’s wearing him down fast, but he refuses to face that fact.

Patton can’t even bring himself to chipper up for Virgil and Logan in the Commons. He just slumps towards one of the couches and summons a Harry Potter book at random from the library— or rather he tries to, but it refuses to come. He stretches out his hand to the floor and makes a motion to pull it up, but nothing happens. “What the…?”

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asks. He sits on the other couch, close enough for Patton to see that his brows crease in worry.

“Oh,” Patton mumbles, “probably nothing. I’m trying to summon Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, but it’s stuck.”

“That would be my fault,” Logan says. Patton turns to look at him in confusion. “After the incident with the books and the escaped monsters a couple weeks ago, Roman and I locked the fiction books up in the library as Perfectionism. I can go retrieve the books you require if you’d like.”

“Don’t worry yourself over it,” Patton smiles. “I can look at dog videos on my phone just as easily.”

“Is it _really_ okay?” Virgil asks. Barely a second later, he draws his knees up to his chest. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to intrude, but you say that a lot for a guy who handles most of Thomas’s emotions. I’m not talking about your lack of J.K. Rowling either, really. Are you doing alright?”

Patton sighs, letting his face fall to neutral. “I’m not gonna lie, this has been a hard couple of weeks, but it’s been that way because I’m getting _worried_ about all of you. Each of you is taking it so hard. Virgil, I know you’re worried about meeting the other sides again. Logan, you’re planning everything so much that you’re getting stressed out. And Roman’s trying _so hard_ to be ready that he’s not keeping up on his health. Nobody’s okay right now, and it’s really hurting Thomas.”

“We have to be prepared nonetheless,” Logan says. “It’s non-optional. Think of the damage it could cause to Thomas’s psyche if we cannot successfully defend the mind palace.”

“What _would_ happen, though?” Patton asks. “Yes, the Dark Sides may be reckoning for some fisticuffs, but they are _sides_   of Thomas. How do we know for sure that they’re unreasonable?”

“Because I know them,” Virgil mutters.

Patton’s face falls. “Oh, Virge, baby. I didn’t mean to say you didn’t.”

“The fact of the matter is they’re Dark Sides whose aspects are harmful to Thomas. On top of that, they’d planned to pull me into it. I’d bet they wouldn’t have left a note. I know them. When they show up, it’s not to hang out. It’s to demand their presence. Even if harm’s not intended, it’ll happen regardless. They don’t do hugs, and they don’t do heartfelt speeches. If they choose to make their stand, they won’t play nice. They’ll do whatever they think they have to in order to get their way.”

“I trust that you remember them well,” Patton frowns. “I just can’t help but hold out hope that they can _grow_. They’re parts of Thomas, just like us. Even if their aspects are somewhat negative, they are what makes Thomas himself. Without them here, Thomas wouldn’t be who he is.”

“I know,” Virgil says quickly, furrowing his brows. “They play a role, like everyone else. Like _me._ But I don’t think you could understand the depth of their potential damage on Thomas. I’m talking about the development of _serious_ mental illness if they take the reigns by force. I guess if they had time, and _lots_ of it, they could be taught how to be kind and respectful and whatever. But that doesn’t change the fact that right now, they just aren’t. Sometimes the only way to knock some sense into them is to subdue them first. That’s all I’m saying. They need to be knocked down a few pegs if we want to make sure they won’t jump us at any minute. I’m all for the betterment of Thomas. Really. But it’s just not an option.”

“So you agree we should reach out to them once this is resolved?” Patton asks.

He watches Virgil’s face grow more closed off at the prospect, but to his credit, he does try to consider. “Uhh…”

“We can cross that bridge when we get to it, kiddo,” Patton reminds gently. “I know that we weren’t your first family, and I’m just hoping that your original one can come join us one day.”

“Calling them a family is a stretch.”

“Whatever word you’d like to use,” Patton says instead. “Do you agree?”

Virgil, across the couch, presses his lips into a thin line. “It’s a nice thought.”

Patton beams, considering it close enough to be a win.

Logan clears his throat. “Speaking of resolution, I believe it would be best to make an attempt to comfort Roman. Seeing as Thomas isn’t really tired yet, I assume Roman must not be asleep yet. Patton, if you’d like to reconcile, I believe Roman may have ‘cooled down’, so to speak. Or, adversely, I could go up myself and attempt him to come here for a film, perhaps.”

“Isn’t it getting late?” Patton asks.

“Though sleep is indeed important, team bonding is even more crucial. Even neglecting its direct impact on our ability to fuse, I find that maintaining positive relationships between us is vital.”

“Aww,” Patton grins. “You love us!”

“You could consider me a fan, yes,” Logan nods.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just let him sleep on it? Come back with a fresh head?” Virgil mumbles.

Logan shakes his head. “Chances are he would feign ignorance of the events and strong-hand us back into training. Patton, I would advise a gentle request for a movie night might work.”

“Well, you’re usually right, so I guess I’ll just have to trust your judgment!” Patton smiles. He stands up and rubs his hands together. “Virgil, would you pull up the Disney section of Netflix, pretty please? And Logan, would you please grab some blankets?”

“Of course,” Logan agreed.

“Yeah. Good luck,” Virgil adds on just as Patton turns away.

“Be back in a minute,” Patton promises. He stands up and makes his way up the stairs into the Mind Palace. His gaze lingers just for a moment on Virgil’s door before he turns to the opposite wall and heads for Roman’s. When he gets close, he pauses and gently knocks. Patton steps back and waits. He tries to not count how long it takes for a response, shifting on his feet. By the time the door actually opens, he’s caught off guard a little.

“… Padre?” Roman asks, furrowing his brows.

“Hey Roman!” Patton grins. “Logan has this _great_ idea for a movie slumber party in the Commons. I was wondering if you might want to come on down and help us pick what to watch?”

Roman’s face relaxes a bit. He glances back into his room and back to Patton. “They’re ready to go?”

“Well, they’re getting all the blankets and things at the moment, but yeah,” Patton admits.

“Okay…” Roman trails off, thinking hard. “I can be down in five? I just have to wrap up some stuff.”

“Anything I can lend a hand with?” Patton offers gently. He doesn’t want to pry, but Roman seems reluctant to leave whatever he’d been working on.

“I don’t think so,” Roman says in a sigh. Immediate concern must have clashed on Patton’s face because Roman quickly begins backtracking. “I mean, nothing _bad_. I opened up some fantasy rooms to make sure their contents aren’t getting restless while they’re locked up. I wouldn’t want to return and find that the Dragon Witch took over my kingdom, would I?”

“On! Right, that would make sense,” Patton nods along. “Should I tell the boys you’ll just take a few minutes?”

“That would be wonderful,” Roman says warmly. Before Patton can react, Roman stepped through the doorway and pulled Patton into a gentle hug. “Thank you for cheering me up, Padre. We’ll help those two decide on the perfect film for fabulous fun!”

Patton laughs and hugs back tightly. “You betcha, son.”

"See you in a few,” Roman says, pulling away before retreating to his room.

For a moment, Patton breathes in and relaxes, feeling the tension slip away. He turns on his heel and heads downstairs again. He never did like getting into fights, but making up was definitely his favorite part of the whole thing.


	12. Pathos

 Roman’s Imagination Realm was fine and dandy for fantasy adventures and theoreticals, but when it came to realistic learning, Patton’s Dream Realm was the place to go.

Patton cups his hands and shouts, “Virgil, you’re doing great!”

“Thanks,” Virgil shouts back distractedly as he jumps backward to dodge a rapier that shoots down impales itself into the ground where he’d stood. He flips his dagger in his hand and runs away from the memory of a fight.

Patton smiles, watching Virgil face off against a memory of [Thespian](https://ibb.co/cwry7U) beside Roman. The fusion illusion tosses long blades after him, summoning rapier after rapier. Actually, Thespian is well dressed as usual, even as a memory, wearing his beautiful cape with its metal rose clasp. He is, however, unmistakably an echo or memory of the Real Thespian, since his whole body is covered in a shiny, nearly holographic shimmer of warm pastel colors.

Logan stands at the other side of the room, watching the match as the referee.

Thespian summons another rapier and hurls it like a javelin into Virgil’s path. Virgil barely alters his course, vaulting right on over the sword when it lodges diagonal in the ground in front of him. When he jumps over it, he hits the ground running and veers his course towards Thespian. There’s a moment where Virgil seems to be running straight at him before he twists and flashes out his dagger into Thespian’s side. Thespian, to his credit, has a fast enough reaction time to jolt away so that the blade only slashes through his long cape. From there on, Virgil and Thespian move quickly and in close quarters as Virgil darts around the fusion and the fusion tries to catch him with massive hands.

Virgil holds his own. Not that his skill is shocking or unexpected, but Patton had figured that the fusion of Roman, a master swordsman, and Deceit, a tough mage, would overpower Virgil much faster. When Virgil had picked Thespian to spar with, Patton was skeptical but allowed it. Now he understands. Thespian is strong, undeniably so, but he’s a little slow and unless the fight escalates to magic use, Thespian’s main advantage is out of the picture. Without that magic, they’re nearly evenly matched.

_Nearly._

Just as Virgil gets in a good cut to Thespian’s thigh, one of the fusion’s lower arm grabs Virgil. When he’s in Thespian’s grasp, the memory fusion squeezes tightly on his torso and then flings him across the room, into the ground.

“Woah,” Roman exclaims, standing up.

“Come on, son! Get up and show him what you’re made of!” Patton shouts.

Virgil makes no response as he rolls over and pushes himself back up.

Thespian is standing at the ready, arm reeled back, ready to throw another blade at the real side. The weapon is set loose and flies towards Virgil, who rolls forward to duck under it. He’s a little too slow on that, and blade catches his hood as it lags behind him and pins him to the ground. The cloth glows gold around the tear but is not actually pierced, as the weapon isn’t actually real either. As long as the memory of Thespian is undefeated and present, everything it interacts with simulates real injury and damage. So though Virgil’s hoodie isn’t in _real_ danger, Virgil really is trapped.

“Uh-oh,” Patton whispers. His fingers twitch in the air. He wants to summon his own sword and end this with one slash, as his power over the room would allow. Still, he can’t imagine what Virgil would think of him if he called it off too soon.

“He’s _fine,_ ” Roman answers back quickly.

Virgil pushes himself up to his elbows but is yanked down by his hood. His eyes widen as Thespian’s body chuckles and slowly starts walking towards him. The anxious side reaches up to the rapier, but the blade is huge and lodged fairly deep into the ground with the hilt many feet above. Panicking, he summons new daggers into his hands, reels his arms back, and throws them, one after the other.

Thespian seems to see the attack coming, and raises one rapier to deflect both daggers. The weapons shoot off in different directions, and Patton’s mildly worried for Virgil‘s failed attack for a moment before he hears a throaty gasp.

Past Thespian, Logan staggers back to the wall of the room, grasping at one of Virgil’s daggers, which protrudes from his shoulder.

“Oh my—“ Roman starts, but Patton’s already in motion. His huge greatsword pops into his fist from thin air. With both hands, he makes one strong slash in the direction of Thespian. The air itself billows out of the way, and across the room Thespian splits into clouds of harmless golden dust. The rapier holding Virgil down and the golden glow on his hoodie turn to dust too. In half a second, Virgil is upright and headed for Logan.

Patton breaks out into a run towards Logan too. It doesn’t look pretty. Logan has enough smarts to not take it out, but the dagger has sunk deep between the shoulder and the top of the ribs. Which means major arteries.

Virgil turns to him as they near Logan and reaches out his hand and shouts “Dad—?”

Patton just grabs his hand and squeezes it and that’s enough—

[Moxiety](https://ibb.co/kxi6bp) takes the last few steps and drops to one knee in front of Logan. “Wow, Logan. You took the cake this time.”

“Kind of your fault,” Logan gasps.

“Half credit to us,” Moxiety says. They glance all over the wound.

It’ll definitely have to be a magic fix, no doubt, but the question is how deep inside Logan do they have to plant their magic to make it heal in seconds? For a moment, they debate shadow stitches that’ll fade momentarily, and then they consider a gelatinous substance to fill up the cut, but then they remember the new idea they had when they watched Black Panther. It was an idea they tossed around; a ball of their combined magic that they push info the wound, where it could expand and repair from the inside.

“We’ll move you horizontal,” Moxiety says, already shifting their four arms behind Logan, lifting him, and laying him down on the floor so they have more room. Then, they make balls of their magic in each hand, no wider than a dime each. One dark and dull purple and the other bright teal. They lift the purple and spiral it over the teal so it lands in a swirl. It solidifies briefly, and Moxiety prepares to begin the operation, their many eyes watching every notable part of Logan. “Brace for brief pain.”

Without a second more, they yank out the dagger and press the ball into the wound. Logan’s face clenches tight for a moment before he sighs and relaxes. He passes out from the magic sedative, but that’s intended. To immobilize him for maximum healing, an unconscious state is preferred.

Moxiety takes a deep breath and looks back up to Roman, who’s watching from a few feet back. “He’s okay,” Moxiety assures. “He’ll be good as new in five minutes.”

“Virgil, why’d you take him on? You _know_ I wouldn’t fuse with him. And even _then,_ I’d never let us attack you! What’s the point?”

“He—“ Moxiety cuts out as his thought process flutters and his mind goes to static for a split second. When he comes to, he checks over Logan once more before turning back to Roman. “Virgil… hasn’t really fought in a while. Wants to push himself.”

“What? You’re the best fighter in the Mindscape,” Roman sighs. “Better than me, better than the Dark Sides I’m certain.”

“He’s not so sure,” Moxiety mumbles. “We wait and see.”

“Alright, if you insist. Patton, do you think we should keep going when Logan’s back to normal?”

“No, too much noise. We’ll take a day off.”

“‘We’ as in _all_   of us, or ‘we’ as in you two?”

“All. It’s not smart to fight when frazzled,” Moxiety says. They tug their hood a little forward, which jostles their curly bangs. Then, abruptly, they fold their legs under them and collapse into a criss-cross sitting position beside Logan. “We’ll regroup. It’s better to be ready any time than push to our limits to train.”

Roman treads closer and lowers himself to the ground much more slowly and gracefully, but when he’s sitting, he leans up against Moxiety’s side.

“What…?” Moxiety questions quietly.

“I’m tired and worried, guys. Can I just… chill with you two for a sec? It’s easier to relax when someone else is keeping watch and all that. And, no offense, but it’s also easier when I’m not staring at your individual faces. Together, you’re like a whole different _person._ Different _rules_ , y’know?”

“I don’t get it,” Moxiety says, looking down at the top of Roman’s head, which leans against his shoulder. “… But I’m here for now, and I’ll keep watch.”

“Thank you,” Roman breathes.

For a minute, they’re relaxed, basking in each other’s safety.

For the minute, everything’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virgil+Patton=Moxiety/Awareness/Lifeguard (plural they/them, uses "we/us" or "he/him" in 3rd person)  
> Moxiety's Fusion Song: beachside-louie zong  
> Roman+Deceit=Princeit/Delusion/Thespian (singular he/him, uses "I/me")  
> Thespian's Fusion Song: up in the stars-gradient descent
> 
> *note: whoops, i forgot to add the Thespian into lmao. by the by, the gold shimmery effect isn't what Thespian really looks like, that's just a filter every memory has in Patton's room


	13. Creativity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vote on your favorite fusions here! I'm just curious :)  
> http://www.easypolls.net/poll.html?p=5bb011cde4b063ed94d847e3

 Roman can feel it under his skin the second he wakes up.

He’s a morning person too, so he wakes up just as Thomas does with an itchy, crawling sensation. The Dark Sides are on the move in the inverse Mindscape, changing things around. Roman naturally summons his sword and throws his bedsheets off, expecting the gutter rats to appear in his room at any moment. However, minutes tick by and eventually the sword held poised at the ready makes his arms tired, and he’s forced to concede that he’s perhaps overreacted.

Roman takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He needs to get this jumpiness under wraps, but the anticipation of attack is getting the better of him. The attack was forewarned to happen any day now. Roman just clears his mind and tries to go about his morning routine of brushing teeth and styling hair and getting dressed in pristine attire without glancing over his shoulder at every turn.

He heads downstairs and finds himself slowing as he approaches the table. Virgil is sitting on the divide in the wall where the kitchen meets the living room. Logan and Patton work together to create breakfast behind him, but Roman’s attention is drawn to the anxious side.

“Virgil?” Roman asks, surprised. “Are you quite alright? You aren’t typically out of your room this early.”

“It isn’t early if you haven’t slept,” Virgil responds. “I have the worst feeling right now.”

“Me too,” Roman says before he can think to stop himself. Then, he raises a hand to his chest. “I mean— not to say that I’m feeling _exactly_   what you feel—“

“You feel the others moving down there?” Virgil interrupts. “Changing things? Preparing? I feel that they’re coming, that Thomas is in danger of himself, that something’s _wrong._ You feeling the physical side makes sense. You’re Creativity. Your powers revolve around creating things, like the Mind Palace and the Imagination Realm. Of _course_ , you’d feel when they’re changing the layout of things down there. I feel the impending disaster, you feel the shifting of it.”

“I thought I was jumping to conclusions,” Roman says.

“I thought _I_   was jumping to conclusions,” Virgil mumbles back.

“Actually, this is quite telling,” Logan responds. He moves over and switches the stove off. “For both of you to have reactions independently strongly suggests that the confrontation is near. I recommend we warn Thomas immediately.”

“Agreed,” Roman says, already sinking out. “I’ll get him. Meet you there.”

He appears to find Thomas pouring himself a bowl of cereal in his kitchen.

“Thomas,” Roman calls.

“Roman!” Thomas shouts, surprised. He almost drops his cereal but sets it down on the counter after a few slips. ”Gimme a break, man. I had a rough night’s sleep and—“

“You need to cancel your plans for today,” Roman says.

Thomas’s eyes go wide. “But— Roman I’m supposed to hang out with Joan, I can’t just _ditch_   them, can I?”

“The Dark Sides are on their way,” Roman says. “Cancel. They’ll understand you need a mental health day alone. By the end of this, I’ll be surprised if that’s a lie.”

“… Right,” Thomas says, shellshocked. Roman waits and listens with him as he calls Joan, who of course accepts it graciously, even when Thomas fails to provide any details or specifics. Thomas thanks him and hangs up after only a couple of minutes.

“Okay,” Roman says. “Take a deep breath. We’re going to one of my rooms.”

“Your room?”

“ _One_   of them. Not the only one I have, but one of the spaces I’ve created other than the Imagination Realm. We’re going to the arena, and we’re going to face whoever shows up.”

“Whoever _shows up_? How many of them are there? What’s going on?” Thomas asks, and waits for Roman to respond. After a few beats too long of the silence, he yells, “Roman!”

“Just _trust_   me,” Roman says sharply. “We need you with us so we can _protect_   you. No harm will come to you as long as I‘m still standing. Now I _need_   you to breathe and focus on your imagination. I’ll guide your thoughts to the right place.”

“… Okay,” Thomas says. He breathes slowly through his nose and then snaps, and then they both appear in the arena.

Roman looks over and Logan, Patton, and Virgil are already present.

“What are we doing? What's the plan?” Thomas asks the other.

Roman can’t watch, he’s got his hands out in front of him, molding the arena to his liking. He assembles the stone blocks under their feet to expand, to give them more room. He lets the edges of the circular arena rise into steps. He’s thinking of the Steven Universe sky arena, actually, because it’s always much less effort to reconstruct an image than to make a new one. Before long, he has an arena with a sky drop at the rim, which he’s pretty sure is floating high above one of his landscape rooms. He makes sure it’s one of the harmless ones that’s stayed pristine, not one of the ones that’s… become more dangerous recently. Once he’s shifted the land below into lush Scottish hills, the only danger if they end up down there is the fall itself.

“We fuse, for they’ll be fused when they come,” Logan says. “We’ve talked about this, Thomas. We won’t let them hurt you.”

“Right,” Thomas mumbles. “Right, right. I know you will, sorry.”

“You sound anxious,” Logan says in a tone that might be accusatory if it had more conviction. “Virgil, are you alright?”

“ **Fine** ,” Virgil growls. It pitches down and echoes.

Roman stops dead still. He turns back to the group with furrowed brows. “Virgil?”

Virgil shakes his head and takes a few steps over so that he’s almost hiding behind Thomas.

“Virgil, you have to calm down if you’re going to fuse with us,” Roman says.

“ **Can’t right now** ,” Virgil’s voice growls. “ **Just fuse. I’ll guard Thomas**.”

“You’re sure?” Roman frowns. He knows Virgil’s upset, but he thought the anxious side wouldn’t want to be alone when faced with his old companions.

Virgil nods though, and his dagger materializes in his fist.

“Very well. Logan, Patton, are we good to go?”

Both of them nod seriously. They’ve already moved into the triangle shape they need for their dance.

Their [music](https://soundcloud.com/louie-zong/new-day) starts playing as Roman puts his weight on the balls of his feet and stretches his right foot forward to barely touch the floor. He puts weight on that and spins on it, twirling forward. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to imagine Patton’s shuffling slide or Logan’s carefully planned footsteps. Just at the right moment, he thrusts his arms up and out, catching both of the other’s hands in the air. Logan twirls Roman, which consequently wraps Patton in closer until they’re all pressed together and—

He appears. [Hero](https://ibb.co/h1COwz) clears his throat and moves his arms forward to crack all four sets of knuckles. Hero’s a big guy, so much so that the others are at his hip level. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose and looks down at Thomas and Virgil.

“So you’re _totally_ the source of the Epic Crime Fighters vine, right?” Thomas asks.

Hero nods, quirking his lips into a smile.

It doesn’t last long.

A cloud of smoke forms across the arena, quickly whirling about and forming into a body. [Bandit](https://ibb.co/iRO2pK) stands there, tophat obscuring their cracking face in shadows. They still have their torn up, rugged clothes in deep greens and rusty oranges and dark browns. “Howdy, Optimism,” they coo in their cowboy accent. “Long time no see.”

“Discontentment,” Hero greets gruffly.

“I need t’ just speak with the host, if you don’t mind,” Bandit says. They crawl forward, arms shrugging. “We’ve spent a long, _long_   time bein' patient, and we just hope we can talk things out, easy-peasy.”

“Screw you, Bandit,” Virgil hisses. “You’re not invited. Leave. Now.”

“Oh ‘Xiety,” Bandit says. They crouch down, pouting. “Do y’know how _upset_ we were when you left? We beat ourselves up about it, and I’m ‘fraid I _do_   mean that literally.”

“Get out!” Virgil yells.

“Sorry to tell ya’ that we ain't here for you. Thomas, _think_   about it. If you could learn t’ love this freak, you can do it again ‘n again. We just want a seat at th’ table.”

Virgil tugs on Thomas’s sleeve. “I know you want to help all of us sides, but you can’t push change like that. What do you think would happen if you just let lies start being a regular, unregulated part of yourself? There’s _other ways_ to work on it.”

“Virgil…” Thomas says. “I’m just not sure this is right.”

“I know them. They’ll tear this group apart,” Virgil hisses. “Which is bad enough, but it’ll mean _you’ll_   be messed up for a very long time. Just _think_ of what kind of mental problems you’ll get when your personality aspects are literally at each other's throats twenty-four seven.”

“Oh, Anxiety. You’re gonna regret sayin’ all these awful awful things when yer ours again,” Bandit sighs. They tut and shake their head slowly. “I think we’ll put ’cha in the basement for a few weeks while we work things out with Thomas.”

“No,” Virgil whispers. His dagger lowers, and he takes a nervous step back. “I’m not going back there.”

“Then be a good boy and _keep outta this_ ,” Bandit hisses. “Tick tock, Thomas. Are we negotiatin’ your surrender or conquerin’ you?”

Hero watches closely.

“Hero?” Thomas whispers.

“We’re on it,” he says. Hero steps forward, between Thomas and the fusion. “You’re done. Time to go.”

“Oh I agree,” Bandit nods, standing up. “It’s _[go time](https://soundcloud.com/gradientdescent/faceplant)_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logan+Patton+Roman=Light/Optimism/Hero (singular he/him pronouns, uses "I/me")  
> Hero's Fusion Song: new day-louie zong  
> Deceit+???//../.?+..  
> Bandit's Fusion Song: face plant-gradient descent


	14. Creativity

 Hero grunts.

He thought Bandit would be no match for him. The whole character Thomas made after him was literally about his ability to fight crime and win. He had expected to put an end to the fight about ten minutes ago. But as he grapples with Bandit, he finds himself losing ground more often than not. There’s something wrong about them. It’s toxic; Hero can see the unstable shifting in Bandit’s face. Something’s wrong with them, but Hero doesn’t have the time to investigate. Whatever it is, it’s making them unpredictable and ruthless.

One of his lower sets of arms reaches and grabs Bandit’s waist before all his other six arms shove them to the side. Bandit stumbles to the side but stands up again glaring.

Bandit growls and rolls their shoulders. After the first five minutes of intense weapon throwing and intricate swordplay, both of them had silently agreed to switch to a battle of hand-to-hand combat. Now, they’re tired of even that. “Ya think yer so powerful just ‘cause you live in the light. Well, you should know that surface sides ain’t the only ones that’re strong!”

“You’re making the wrong move,” Hero grunts back.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so _wrong_ ‘bout demandin’ a say?” Bandit says. “We deserve t’ be noticed!”

“That’s on you. You chose to hide yourselves.”

Bandit’s face wobbles for a second as if they might unfuse, but they slap their hands over their eyes and huff. A second later, they’re back together. They don’t say anything before they throw a punch towards Hero’s face.

Hero catches it with three hands and grabs hold of Bandit’s other hands.

“If we wanna get into technicalities, why’re our names what they are?” Bandit growls in Hero’s face. “What if we flip th’ script? How do ya feel about being called ’Distraction’, Princey? Can we call Padre ‘Sentimentality’? Ain’t Logic just ‘ _Judgement_ ’?”

Hero grits his teeth. He can feel Morality getting guilty, wanting to hear them out. He can’t let his guard down though. If he slips up, Bandit won’t be as passive as Hero just was. Bandit will tear him apart at the seams and then go for Thomas. He can’t leave it up to Virgil to protect Thomas against such a monster. Instead, Hero shakes his head. “You choose to hurt Thomas. It’s _different._ ”

“I do my job,” Bandit says. “Just like you.”

Hero’s shoved backward and skids across the floor. Before he can get his guard up completely, Bandit charges and leaps at him, hooking one leg over his shoulder and grabbing at his head with their hands. Their back set of legs -which are arms really- jab a flurry of gut punches at Hero’s stomach before he shields it with a few arms. Hero struggles for a moment, trying to simultaneously balance the weight of both of them while also incapacitating Bandit. In the next second, he reaches under Bandit, grabs them, and twists, throwing them over his shoulder to where they crash away on the ground. And then, before they can recover, Hero splays two arms out towards the ground and pulls up with Roman’s magic. The ground around Bandit responds instantly, turning liquid like quicksand for only a few seconds before solidifying. By then, the damage is done, and Bandit’s stuck, molded into the floor.

Bandit screeches, trying to lift their legs up and out of the floor. When they’re unsuccessful, they pull their hand into a fist.

Hero resists for a second but ends up with eight hands clamped over each other, covering his mouth.

“Virgil!” Bandit yells. “We need your help, Virgil. If we were _ever_   friends in the first place, prove it. Come here, we can form Villain, and we can all make sure everyone knows what we’ve been through! We can set things right.”

Hero can’t pull his hands from his mouth, but he can turn. Thomas stands behind Virgil at the edge of the arena, close to the door. Actually, Thomas is breathing hard and grasping at his shirt. Virgil is shaking. They’re having a panic attack. Hero can’t do anything though. He’d plead his case to Virgil, remind the other side that he’ll always have a family with him, that he’s so sorry for all the initial coldness to him, or even just go over and comfort him, but Deceit’s magic holds his hands firmly clamped over his jaw.

“Please,” Bandit calls softer. “We’re so _sick_   a’ bein’ treated like somethin’ to overlook. Ya found a way to the surface. Ya can’t just leave us now! Thomas isn't okay. We can't keep pretendin' he's perfect and happy-- We need t’ be heard. We need to take our place in his life. We need t’ make them pay!”

“You’re wrong!” Virgil yells.

For a second, the world goes silent.

“You’ve always been wrong. The way to go about being heard, to go about changing things with Thomas has never been what you thought. It’s not to scare him so bad he’ll fix it. It’s not to lie to him and manipulate him. It's not to lash out. It’s not to make him _jealous_ of his friends. You’re just hurting everyone!”

“Good!” Bandit retorts. “See how they like it!”

“No,” Virgil mutters. “My job is to protect Thomas. You’ve long since moved into the threat category. I won’t let you hurt my family.”

“What’re ya gonna’ do, then? Take us on right here? Run away with Thomas? He can’t run from himself! The second we’re free, we’re gonna to fight Hero, and we’re gonna to win!”

“You might win against Optimism. But not Equilibrium.”

Bandit’s face goes slack. “… you can’t. They’d never trust you enough.”

Virgil starts walking towards Hero.

“I’m sure ya can’t! Ya can barely form ‘im on your best day, ‘Xiety. When everythin’ is _just_ _right,_ when yer calm! There ain’t no way you could measure up now. Look at ‘cha, you’re shakin’ in your boots!”

“Light,” Virgil calls when he’s only feet away.

Hero’s attention snaps to Virgil instantly at the use of his actual name.

Virgil reaches up. “Come here.”

Hero drags two hands away from his mouth and kneels, placing two hands on the floor to balance while crouched over. He leans down until he’s at eye level.

“I’m still freaking out,” Virgil says, pushing Hero’s hands away from his mouth. “But I trust you.”

They don’t even need to say anything else. Hero tilts his head forward and Virgil does the same until they’re forehead to forehead and—

He blinks and clenches his fists because a second ago he had sunglasses on but now…

Now, [Calm](https://ibb.co/fnTpUK) straightens up. He’s perched kneeling, looking at Bandit. The guy’s little censorship tricks don’t work now. Either they’ll up the ante by pulling out some real magic, or they’re done. There’s no contest now, only a matter of how long it will take for them to win.

“Consarn it, fine,” Bandit says. “I do concede; I’m outnumbered. Allow me just two more points?”

“What do you—“ Calm cuts himself short of the question as he watches Bandit summon a shortsword and hurl it across the arena. Calm freezes, but it’s not aimed at him. He follows its path and watches Thomas tense as the sword sails past, cutting open a gash on his arm.

The second Thomas screams, Calm is moving.

Calm tackles Bandit, straddling them and pinning their shoulders to the ground below. It must not be comfortable for them to have their spine bent over in half, but at least the discomfort shows on their face.

“Time f’r numero dos,” they whisper.

They unfuse in a cloud of dark smoke, which blinds Calm for a moment. He raises one hand to rub at his eyes and another to swat away the gas. A few seconds later, it’s clear enough to make out what’s happened.

Bandit has left, and they've left one of their components behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Logan+Patton+Roman+Virgil=Calm/Equilibrium/??????  
> Calm's Fusion Song: good doggo groove-louie zong


	15. Centurian

 “Deceit?” Calm asks. The other side is trapped under Calm’s palm, remaining where Bandit had been pinned down.

“Who would’ve guessed?” Deceit says. Well, he wheezes. Calm must weigh a ton, and he’s basically leaning half his weight on where Bandit was.

Calm eases up on the pressure, careful not to crush the tiny side. “Why are you— wait—“

—Oh no—

—Roman braces himself and rolls when he hits the ground from the height of Calm. The drop was jarring, but he won’t let it stop him from protecting the others. He leaps up from his roll, already summoning his sword, and jabs it under Deceit’s throat.

“Oh _yes_ , Roman, good thing you’re restraining me. I was planning on fighting back _right_   now. _That’s_   the plan,” Deceit mumbles.

Roman will admit, Deceit looks like hell. His face alone is bruised all over, and who _knows_   how much more under all his layers. “Stay down,” he says anyway. Calm is unfused now, so they have to rely on intimidation to prevent further combat. And he knows exactly why they lost their cool enough to unfuse. “Virgil?! Is Thomas—”

“He’s fine,” Virgil yells back. “He’s fine. Just a graze. He fainted from surprise, not from injury.”

“You better _hope_ he’s fine,” Roman growls to Deceit. “ _Why_   would you do that? I know you were angry but _this_   crosses the line!”

“Right,” Deceit mumbles back.

“Why?!”

“That was _totally_   all me,” Deceit slurs. “Just like I’m in their good graces. In fact, I’ll just sink out, head back to the basement. All of that’s true.”

“You can’t go back?” Roman hisses. “Why not?”

“Locked out,” is all he says.

“Out of your corner? That’s just not _possible!_   Explain yourself, you fiend!”

Deceit opens his mouth to say something, but his mismatched eyes roll back and his head hits the floor with a thump when he passes out. The whole encounter lasted well over half an hour, which would leave anyone exhausted from exertment, let alone _injury._ It’s no wonder why Deceit passed out.

Roman stares at his unconscious body for a second before sweeping his gaze distractedly over the battlefield. It’s still smoking. There are dozens of craters and cracks in the arena floor from thrown swords and blades and transmutation of the ground into spikes and other weapons. It’s such a mess, Roman instantly decides to lock it up once they leave. Once he locks it and walks away, it’ll move around to be in the hall of forbidden rooms, which is a much more dramatic name than it really should be. Damaged rooms happen all the time in Roman’s corner. In fact, there’s been an influx of forbidden rooms since this whole thing started, so many that they outnumber the good ones. He’ll just make a whole new room and a new arena instead of fixing this one, just like he does with any other locked room.

That’s the problem with his powers. He can hardly change things to his whim. Much of his magic, though impressive looking, is a matter of moving the old away and _replacing_   it with a new invention. Unfortunately, the old creations have to go somewhere, and that somewhere is always in his hall of huge, padlocked, warehouse sized rooms filled to the brim with nonsense and old creations. And eventually, _those_ are deleted.

He has to spend a huge amount of energy to delete a whole room. It used to be easier when Deceit was an ally to call upon. It was _chaos_   in Roman’s halls when the Dark Sides broke off into the basement and he had to figure out how to delete his own rooms. He wonders if that’ll change again soon.

“Roman,” a voice says. A warm hand touches his shoulder. He sways forward a bit from it. The gentle surety of it makes Roman certain it’s Patton. “We’re going to need to move Thomas to the Commons. I think you should come.

“Okay,” Roman says. His eyes drop. “What do we do about him? He says he’s locked out of the basement.”

“We take him too,” Patton answers. “He’s hurt, and that’s part of why Thomas is hurt.”

“We can’t _trust_ him,” Roman spits.

“But we can _help_   him,” Patton says. He unwraps Roman’s knuckles from his katana and takes it, making it disappear into the air the second he removes it from his grasp. “He’s a part of Thomas no matter what.”

“Okay,” Roman says. “Can I see Thomas first?”

Patton just leads him across the arena. When they near, Roman sees Virgil and Logan kneeling beside Thomas, who is laid on his side.

“This is the recovery position,” Logan says to Roman. “He doesn’t need it, but I felt like I had to do something.”

“It’s okay, I can carry him out,” Roman assures. “Virgil, Deceit’s said something about being locked out.”

“He wouldn’t still be here if he wasn’t,” Virgil nods like it was to be expected.

“Ehh,” Roman grunts. “Furthermore, he’s passed out.”

“ _What?!_ ” Virgil asks sharply.

“He’s fine, I think. Just tired,” Roman says.

Virgil takes a long breath and puffs it out so hard it makes his bangs flutter momentarily. “You take Thomas. I’ll carry D. And before you protest, I’m only one I’m sure he won’t corrupt by proximity, so _yes_ , it has to be me.”

“If you’re sure,” Roman nods.

He takes another second to watch Virgil stand and walk away before taking his place beside Thomas. The cut it right above his bicep and about two inches long. Thomas’s arm is bleeding sluggishly, but it doesn’t look very threatening. Not a scratch, but also not a gash. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged, but not urgently. He reaches forward and pulls Thomas to his chest, lifting him into a bridal style hold.

“…Let’s get going, guys.”

“I’ll get the door,” Patton says, moving faster towards the exit.

Roman spares a glance back at Virgil, and finds him carrying Deceit over his shoulders in a fireman hold. They don’t say anything as they file out of the door and into his tall, elegant hallway. As soon as Patton closes the door behind them, Roman snaps with the hand under Thomas’s knees and a lock forms over the door. “Come on,” he mumbles and turns away.

Twenty minutes later and they’re in the Commons. Thomas is laid out on the couch, all bandaged and covered with a soft blanket. Virgil is taking Deceit to his room. Patton is making tea as they stand in the commons room, talking quietly.

“Of _course_ I can make him a room,” Roman mumbles indignantly. “But it won’t be _his_   room. He didn’t choose to come up here like Virgil did, so the door to his room should still be in the basement. Where, I’ll remind you, he’s lost access to. All of our traits get thrown into a rollercoaster ride when we can’t rest in our own rooms. Who _knows_   how out of control Thomas’s lying could get?”

“There’s not much we could do, save for making Thomas take all of us to the basement and leave Deceit there,” Logan responds. “Keeping him here may be our best option.”

“Thomas is going to feel awful for a while,” Patton says. “None of us want to admit it, but my bruises really really ache, so yours must too. We’re in turmoil, and we know what that means for Thomas.”

Logan nods along. “It means he’ll be unstable for an undetermined period of time. I agree with Roman’s point, that until Deceit is returned to his corner, compulsive lies will become unavoidable. Our best option, for now, is to ensure that Deceit doesn’t actively attempt to unravel Thomas’s psyche while keeping him within our sight.”

“The more pressing problem is that we know for a fact that we can _hurt Thomas_ ,” Roman hisses. “Which means he’s in real danger of getting actually hurt by the Dark Sides, or even any of _us_   if we mess up. We need to have a plan, and we need one now.”

“I’m back,” Virgil announces, walking into the kitchen. “He’s tied up in one of my sealed rooms.”

“Safely?” Logan questions.

“His circulation is fine,” Virgil says flatly. “I assume he’ll be staying in my wing until we figure out what’s going on.”

“Either that or I’ll make him a room. We’ll ask him when he comes to,” Roman answers. “Who knows what he’s thinking, or even what really happened? We’ll have to talk to him when he wakes up.”

“Are you talking about me?” a voice groans.

“Thomas,” Roman exclaims. He, along with the other sides, hurry out of the kitchen and to the couch.

“How are you, kiddo?” Patton asks, kneeling beside Thomas whilst the others hover.

“What h… oh,” Thomas says as his memories return. “My arm’s fine, I think. My head just feels kinda… I don’t wanna say bad, but bad.”

“Fighting sides will make that happen,” Logan says. “It’s not unlikely that you’ll enter an emotional rut as a byproduct of this fight.”

“Oh,” Thomas mutters.

“Yeah,” Virgil nods. “Deceit’s trapped in the Mind Palace with us for now too, so some problems will rise from that. It means that you’re going to be _much_   more inclined to lie about things. If I had to guess, you’ll be lying to your friend about your state of mind.”

“For how long? What about the other part of Bandit? Did they kick him out?”

“We don’t know,” Roman says.

“We’ll figure it out,” Virgil says. “You just need to focus on taking care of yourself and keeping yourself as stable as possible. It’ll be a rough patch, but we will get through it.”

“You’ll be okay, Thomas,” Roman assures. “We just need your cooperation in staying as calm and normal as possible while we work things out.”

“Yeah, of course,” Thomas nods. He looks up at Logan. “And I’ll be able to still make my own decisions anyway. You guys may be somewhat beyond my conscious control, but I can always shape my mindset.”

“You can always actively try,” Logan says in response. “That alone will help incredibly.”

Thomas turns his head and looks at his arm. The injury isn’t actually visible under the bandages, but Roman feels Thomas’s injury in his own arm as if he'd been the one to get hit. “This is a lot more serious than I first thought," Thomas says. "I mean, I always knew it was weird to imagine parts of myself, and that imagining my own story by compartmentalizing my own mind was fun, but _I don’t know_ where I’ve been physically for a while. Somehow, in the real, _physical_   world, I hurt myself. I always thought I was just _imagining_   you, to some extent.”

“And you _are,_ ” Roman nods. “To an _extent._ Every thought you have is your imagination; everyone has voices in their heads. Like, when you think ‘two plus two equals four’, you imagine the thought, and you imagine a _voice_ saying that thought. But you’ve made a habit of separating the aspects of your thoughts into personalities. That’s what we are.”

Logan pushes his glasses up. “True. But I think I understand what Thomas is realizing. There’s something _actually_ wrong with Thomas. Something that causes memory loss and hallucinations and mood swings and minor self-harm."

“We’ll help him figure it out, though,” Virgil interrupts. “And I can feel all the panic building up Thomas, but take a breath. Plenty of people -people we know, too- have mental illnesses that don’t stop their ability to live. That doesn’t make them crazy or insane. We’ll work through this.”

“There’s _nothing_   that we can’t get through together,” Patton exclaims. He kneels half on the couch and pulls Logan close until he can hug Thomas and Logan at the same time, but Logan reaches out in surprise and drags Virgil in too, and then they’re all practically in a group hug.

“With proper attention and care for your wellbeing, we can undoubtedly remain as functional an adult as you already are, Thomas,” Logan adds reassuringly.

“At the end of the day, we are you, Thomas,” Roman says, setting a gentle hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “And you’ve got this.”

“I trust you. ” Thomas nods. “I’ve got this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter folks! Just an epilogue left after this...


	16. Deceit

 He nods at the list mindfully.

 

Logan+Patton=Pagan/Empathy/Doctor

Logan+Roman=?????/Perfectionism/Narrator

Logan+Virgil=Logil/Curiosity/Scholar

Patton+Roman=??????/Belief/Counselor

Patton+Virgil=??????/Protectiveness/Lifeguard

Roman+Virgil=?????/Bravery/King

Roman+Deceit=??/????/Thespian

 

Multi-Fusions

Logan+Patton+Roman=Light/Optimism/Hero

Logan+Roman+Virgil=?????/Productivity/Manager

Deceit+??..,.?.!,?,,.?=?/Discontentment/Bandit

Virgil+Deceit+?.???.?=Dark(?)/Pessimism/Villain

Logan+Patton+Roman+Virgil=Calm/?????????/?

Logan+Patton+Roman+Virgil+Deceit+?????=Thomas

 

“That’s all Thomas has figured out. For now,” Virgil says from the edge of his bed. “Copied straight from his notebook he thinks we don’t know about.”

 

Deceit leans back in the chair and sips the warm chamomile tea that’s been brought for him. It’s nice. The nicest thing he’s had in a long time. Even with bruises painted across his cheeks and shoulders and chest and stomach, he’s feeling better than he has in a decade. Safer, even.

 

“What now?” Virgil asks.

 

Deceit looks out into the dark. He hasn’t been in Virgil’s actual bedroom in years, but here he is. A spotlight glow on a queen sized bed, a lone door, some wardrobes and dressers, a bookshelf and a reclining chair in the middle of the dark expanse of nothing. His ankle is tied to the base of the recliner with a length of rope.

 

This whole ordeal is exhausting. His bruises ache.

 

“I don’t know, why don’t we dramatically stare at each other until we understand?”

 

Virgil huffs and shakes his head. It’s that endearing thing where his breath puffs his bangs out of his eyes for a split second. Charming. “Very nice, Dee. Let’s get to the real answers, since you know you can’t lie to my face these days. No more hiding in lies. What now?”

 

“Now we face the facts,” Deceit says.

 

“You’re locked out?”

 

“Couldn’t go back if I tried.”

 

“Are you going to give my way a shot?”

 

“What, try to become a Light Side?” Deceit laughs. Then he sighs, the humor flooding out of him just as quick as it came. “Ah. What a thought.”

 

“Worked for me.”

 

Deceit stares into the depths of his tea and blinks lazily. “Apparently so.”

 

“So?”

 

“You forget there was a time when the markers of light and dark were meaningless and purely aesthetic in use. We were just alters, that’s all. Sides, I guess, after I first cleaned the slate, so to speak.”

 

“I remember. You don’t have to remind the only other person who does,” Virgil says coldly. His voice has no give, no room to argue.

 

“I used to be part of a trio just like you were. Pathos, Logos, Ethos. It's a new day. No reason not to any more. I’m sure with some hard work, we can rebuild that.”

 

“Roman would take some convincing,” Virgil warns. “He’s believed himself to be the third to their trio, since he couldn’t remember his original one. Seems like none of us like being the odd man out, after all. I doubt he'd let you, and even if he did, it would take months. Years maybe.”

 

“You wormed your way in without butting him out,” Deceit shrugs.

 

“Yeah, over years, and with a lot of butting heads.”

 

“Then I’ll have to put my best foot forward and be careful.”

 

“They’ll never trust you until you show them they can,” Virgil says, leaning back on his bed. “You’ll need to show them you’re not lying about this. Prove to them that you want to stop him. Make them see you're not a persecutor.”

 

“Then I’ll convince myself first and fuse with them,” Deceit shrugs. “They’ll see firsthand.”

 

“That’s something that takes trust. They don’t trust you enough to fuse with you,” Virgil snaps. “Pony up and just try to start making amends, alright? No shortcuts. No manipulation. Just… apologize, and try not to stab everyone in the back.”

 

“No promises,” Deceit jokes before taking a sip of his tea. “My job is to know more than everyone else, just like it’s your job to protect all of us. Even if the others don’t realize their jobs, they’re still doing them. I thought you said Logan’s been gatekeeping flawlessly without even knowing.”

 

“He is,” Virgil frowns. “And Patton’s still stabilizing everyone.”

 

“Thank god he’s the core and not anyone else,” Deceit grins. “You say my room isn’t here?”

 

“Nope. Must be trapped in the basement.”

 

“The door stays where you believe you belong,” Deceit says dryly. “I guess it’ll be clear when I convince myself, at least.”

 

“What are you going to do until then?” Virgil asks, brows furrowing. “None of us can stay healthy without our rooms. If you’re cut off from it, you can’t balance your aspect out, or keep it in check. We need our space to do our jobs; to cut someone off—“

 

“Then I better work fast,” Deceit snaps, cutting Virgil off. He knows it has to be fast or he’ll suffer the consequences, but dwelling on it will only make it worse. Better to remain as level-headed as possible to try and control himself while he gets to work playing nice. There’s a pause, and then he grins up at Virgil. “Careful. You almost sounded worried for a second.”

 

Virgil’s mouth opens and he begins to say something before he snaps it shut and stares into the void of his room. His cheeks turn dusty pink under the white foundation he’s become so fond of. Then, suddenly, the boy stands sharply. “I’m taking a walk.”

 

“See you in a few,” Deceit says. “Don’t get eaten by monsters.”

 

And he walks away aimlessly into the dark.

 

Deceit swirls his tea and takes another sip. It’s good. Patton must have made it. Alone for the moment with the quiet hum of the room’s white noise, Deceit wonders if he’ll be able to do this. If he can, it’ll be the best con job he’s ever done. After all, to create a false new attitude and outlook so flawless you convince everyone is hard, but to convince yourself is even more absurd. A fake identity. Or maybe others would just call that a reinvention.

 

Hm.

 

Maybe it’s time to grow up and face the music, as an old musical once said. Maybe it’s time to make a choice for himself. Not for Virgil, not for Thomas, not for the boys downstairs. For himself.

 

Minutes later, Virgil reappears from his wandering around the looping darkness of his bedroom. (It’s a curious bit of magic; no matter how far you walk in the dark, you’re only ever a few yards from seeing the light.) It seems that there are no monsters of his lurking in the outskirts of his room today. That’s not the story all the time, from what Deceit remembers. He remembers half-opaque shadows crawling closer but almost never stepping into the full light. Virgil must have found a way to sort through those pests.

 

“So?” Deceit asks mildly. “How was your walk?”

 

“Calming,” Virgil says, word choice so intentional it’s practically an attack.

 

“I’d like to apologize,” Deceit says out of the blue. He stares at the empty teacup so he doesn’t have to look up. “I probably shouldn’t have let you go, back when I told you to run away. And I probably should have let the other sides remember who you were. And I probably shouldn’t’ve hexed you with my magic last month.”

 

“…Most of those are okay,” Virgil says slowly. “Not that last one. Still pretty pissed about it. But the others… those’re fine. I shouldn’t have left you there alone with the others.”

 

“I shouldn’t’ve let you leave alone,” Deceit returns with a shrug.

 

“I’m okay with how it turned out,” Virgil says. His gaze, however, drops and flickers fo the door. “I’m more worried about what happens now.”

 

“Now…” Deceit hums. “Now either we wipe the system again or we let him piece it out.”

 

“We’re adults. We have a job based on Thomas’s personality. We can’t start over again.”

 

Deceit nods. “So he finds out. And we deal with what that means.”

 

Therapy. Medication. Temporary turmoil. Possibly healthcare complications. As the anxieties pop into Deceit’s head, Virgil takes a few heavy steps and leans on the footboard of his bed, bracing himself. “I was worried you’d say that.”

 

“One step at a time, Virgil,” Deceit says with a slight smile. “Why not tell the others I’m going to attempt cooperation? It might smooth things over.”

 

“And leave you alone?”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Deceit says, kicking with his foot so the rope goes taught and makes a noise. It doesn’t keep him bound any more than a thread of yarn would, but he acknowledged the significance of the precaution, and he wouldn’t go as far as to violate it just to prove that he can.

 

Virgil stands and moves close enough for their knees to brush, and takes his cup of tea and its platter. “…I’ll be a minute.”

 

“I’ll be here when you return,” Deceit says, looking him right in the eye. “Am I lying?”

 

“No,” Virgil mutters.

 

Between one blink and the next, his best friend disappeared out of the room.

 

In the dim light, Ethel closes his eyes and breathes out.


End file.
